“How would the girl know that?” Maggie asked, as Gabe put on his slacks.
“Maybe Jane Doe told her—she’s got a phone next to her bed. She can call out whenever she wants,” Gabe suggested, sniffing his shirt. Unfortunately the clothes he had worn the day before smelled and felt like it.
“Would the hospital have a record of those calls?” Maggie asked, pacing around and giving him wide berth.
“No,” Gabe replied decisively. Wishing for a razor and a toothbrush and the time he needed to make himself as presentable as he needed to be to woo Maggie the way she deserved to be wooed, Gabe sat down and put on his shoes and socks. “You might be able to get the information from the phone company, but it would take a court order to get it.”
“And that would take time,” Maggie pointed out unhappily, relaxing slightly as she perched on the bench in front of her dressing table.
“Time we don’t really have,” Gabe agreed. Like Maggie, he was worried about what was going to happen to Jane Doe if they couldn’t earn her trust, and soon.
Maggie bit into her soft lower lip uncertainly. “Should we hand this note over to the police?”
Trying not to think how much he wanted to kiss her, Gabe shook his head. “I’ll call Harlan Decker—the private detective my aunt Winnifred hired—and tell him about it. But then I think we should go to the hospital,” he told Maggie firmly. “Talk to Jane Doe, show her the note, and see what she has to say about it.”
Hope suddenly sparkled in Maggie’s eyes. “You think if we show her the note that we might have a shot at getting Jane Doe to remember who she is?”
Gabe shrugged, not about to make any promises on what would or would not happen with his elderly patient. “It’s worth a try.”
Maggie straightened and cast a disparaging look at the dirt smeared on the thighs of her jeans. “I need to change clothes before we go,” Maggie said.
“So do I,” Gabe said, relieved he was finally going to get the opportunity to get their evening started off on a better note.
“How about I meet you at your place in twenty minutes?” Maggie said.
Gabe nodded. No doubt about it. Their evening was definitely looking up. “See you then.”
MAGGIE TOLD HERSELF she was showering and putting the pretty sage-green sheath and matching short-sleeved linen jacket on for her visit with Jane Doe. The same went with doing her hair in a quick up-sweep and putting on a pair of gold earrings. Her efforts to make herself look as nice as possible had absolutely nothing to do with the look of distinctly male appreciation she saw in Gabe’s eyes the second he laid eyes on her.
“You look very pretty,” Gabe said, as he let her in. He smiled at her sexily. “Smell good, too.” He stopped just short of her and looked at her as if he very much wanted to kiss her again. “New perfume?”
Finding his low husky voice a bit too determined, too full of erotic promise for comfort, Maggie turned away with a cheerful grace she couldn’t begin to really feel. “Same old one.”
“Hmm.” He followed her into the hall.
Maggie turned back to face him. Needing something concrete to focus on—besides the ever-mounting physical and emotional attraction between them—she nodded at his disheveled state. Although she had gone all out getting ready for their—well, it wasn’t exactly a date, more like a casual, meaningless evening out—he still hadn’t shaved. His mouth smelled minty fresh-like toothpaste and wintergreen mouth-wash. He had on a clean pair of stone-colored khakis. But he was bare-chested and barefoot. And the damp, mussed state of his inky black hair indicated that—just like her—he had taken a shower too.
Trying hard not to think how alluring and faintly dark and dangerous the stubble of a day’s worth of beard made him look, Maggie swallowed and plastered her most devil-may-care expression on her face. “I thought you were going to be ready to go,” she said casually.
Gabe nodded his regret. “I was, but the hospital called me practically the moment I got out of the shower—they needed to bring me up to date on one of my patients. I just got off the phone a second ago. In the meantime, I need to iron a shirt, and shave before I go.” He strode toward the stairs, then paused and turned his gaze in the direction of the construction area. He looked at her with gratitude and respect. “By the way, the kitchen is looking great.”
Maggie couldn’t help it—she beamed with pleasure. “You like what we’ve done so far?” She couldn’t say why, she just knew she wanted his approval.
Gabe nodded. “Very much.”
Maggie turned her gaze in the direction of his and tried to see the ongoing project through her client’s eyes. The walls had been taken out, the new framing was in place. Deciding as long as they were both here, they might as well go over the changes made thus far, Maggie took Gabe’s hand in hers and led him into the center of the construction. She let go of his hand and continued, explaining proudly, “As you can see, the electrical work has all been done, and the kitchen re-plumbed. You’ll be able to put in the refrigerator that you wanted, with an icemaker and water in the door.”
Gabe leaned in closer to her ear. “Where is the trash compactor going to go?”
Her heart pounding, Maggie leaned back slightly. She was tingling all over. She told herself it was excitement about her work causing her body to go hay-wire and not his proximity. “Right here.” Feeling the blood rush to the center of her body, Maggie stepped away from Gabe with as much grace as she could muster and pointed to an area of framed cupboard next to the new kitchen sink. “We’re also going to build in recycling bins next to that.”
“Great.” Gabe looked impressed. He moved to join her, bracing a hand on the counter, just to the left of her. “When is the new flooring going in?”
Nerves jangling, Maggie danced away from him. “As soon as we get the cabinets in—so they’ll probably start that tomorrow,” she said with an efficient smile.
Gabe straightened and crossed his arms against the satiny smooth skin of his rock-solid chest. “It’s really going to look great.”
“I think so, too.” Maggie tried not to think of how much she was going to miss not having an excuse to see him multiple times every single day. “You did an excellent job of picking out everything,” she continued pleasantly.
“The problem is,” Gabe said as he continued to survey their surroundings, the corners of his sensual lips turning down, “the rest of the house is going to look less than spectacular in comparison.”
He had a point there, Maggie thought. The rest of his beach house was sorely in need of additional work. “So continue with the renovations, as you can,” Maggie suggested. That’s what she had done with her own place.
Gabe turned back to her with a smile. He looked as if he had been hoping she would say that. “Will you help me?”
Maggie’s pulse kicked up another notch. What was he really suggesting here? “Help you what?” she asked warily.
He shrugged his broad shoulders and locked eyes with her deliberately. “Decide what to do with my bedroom.”
Chapter Nine
“You can be honest,” Gabe said several minutes later as he plucked a pair of clean socks from a dresser. “I need help, don’t I?”
Maggie watched as Gabe unfolded the pressing board attached to the back of his closet door, and plugged in an iron. “I’m the wrong person to ask,” Maggie replied as he disappeared into the half-empty walk-in closet, and emerged with a blue dress shirt and a can of spray starch. “I always look at a room and see a million ways it could be improved.”
Gabe shrugged and sprayed his shirt liberally. “So tell me how to improve this,” he said.
Trying not to notice how sexy Gabe looked in just his stone-colored slacks, Maggie backed up until her hips touched one of two large dressers with attached mirrors. She folded her arms in front of her. “Bedrooms really aren’t my forte.”
“So help me anyway.” Gabe’s eyes shimmered with a sexy, appealing light. “If it were your bedroom, how would you
improve it?”
Happy to focus on anything that would keep her mind off the direction it really wanted to go—which was how much fun it would be to make love to Gabe again. Here. Now— Maggie turned her attention to the dècor. Or lack thereof. Her natural nesting instincts coming into play, she surveyed the dark, unappealing master bedroom. It was masculine, all right. Too masculine. “Well, I’d take those heavy paisley drapes off the windows and replace them with white wooden blinds that could be opened or shut at will.”
Gabe nodded agreeably as he pressed the wrinkles out of the collar. “What else?”
Maggie studied the spacious room. “I’d paint the room a soothing pale blue and customize the closet with drawers and shelving that would hold all your clothing. Then I’d take out both of these dressers.”
Gabe quirked his brow in surprise.
Maggie smiled and explained, “You wouldn’t need them anymore and they take up a lot of floor space.” She moved away from the bureau. “I’d hide the TV and stereo equipment in a nice walnut armoire that matches your bed and place it here.” Maggie pointed to that space on the wall. “And add a cozy reading chair in the corner by the window and a low bookshelf that doubles as a window seat there.”
Gabe grinned at her enthusiasm. “Wow.” Finished with the sleeves, he turned to the back of the shirt.
Warming to her subject, Maggie strolled closer to his king-size bed. “I’d also add some sort of print comforter and lots of extra pillows on your bed, and I’d cut a door into this wall here.” She walked back to demonstrate. “And connect this bedroom to the small room next door so it could function as either a study or a nursery, depending on a person’s needs.” She turned back to Gabe excitedly. Able to clearly envision everything she had described, she explained the rationale behind her proposed improvement. “You’d still have a spare bedroom and a hall bath, which would make the place as easy to sell as ever. You never want to make improvements that would turn off potential buyers, or make a place unmarketable in the future. Because you never know when you’re going to have to sell.”
Gabe turned off his iron and bent to unplug it from the wall. “So when can you start?” Gabe asked.
Maggie blinked. “What?”
Gabe slid his arms into the sleeves of his shirt. “Doing all that for me, too.”
Maggie tried to keep a handle on her runaway pulse. “We weren’t talking about what you wanted here, Gabe,” she reminded as he closed the distance between them, and lazily began buttoning up his shirt. “We were talking about what I wanted.”
Half of Gabe’s mouth turned up in a sensual smile. “I know.”
Maggie gulped as he fastened the buttons on his sleeves. “So…?”
“So,” Gabe undid his fly and tucked the tails of the shirt inside the waist of his pants. Eyes on hers, he redid his fly. “If you have our baby the two of you will be spending a lot of time here. And,” he concluded happily, “I want you both to be comfortable.”
OKAY, Maggie thought, still scolding herself silently some twenty five minutes later. It was way past time for her to get a grip on her out-of-control emotions, and increasingly vivid fantasies about their future. When Gabe had asked her to re-do the master bedroom of his beach house, he hadn’t been proposing they turn their for-the-sake-of-the-baby marriage into a real one.
He hadn’t been proposing anything even remotely close to that.
He was just thinking ahead to how they could best spend time with the baby they hoped they had already created. And yet the secret, romantic side of Maggie couldn’t help but wish—however wistfully and unrealistically—that Gabe was at least showing some interest in taking their relationship to a deeper and more long-lasting level. Because more and more she was wanting just that.
“Everything okay?” Gabe asked curiously as they pulled into the doctors’ parking lot at the hospital.
Realizing—too late—that she wanted a real family, with a mom, dad and kids, almost as much as she wanted a baby, Maggie nodded. “Sure,” she said, doing her best to mask her tumultuous emotions and behave as confidently as possible. She turned to him with a dazzling smile. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
Gabe shrugged his broad shoulders and continued to study her intently. “You’ve been pretty quiet.”
“I was just thinking about Jane Doe,” Maggie fibbed, her glance falling to his hands as he switched off the car, and pulled his keys out of the ignition. “Wondering how she is, and if she’ll tell us who she is.”
Gabe’s dark brow furrowed hopefully. “One way to find out.”
Together, they headed up to the fourth-floor nurses’ station. They ran into Penny Stringfield just down the hall from Jane Doe’s room. To Maggie’s relief, the pretty young nurse looked more composed than she had the last time they had seen her. “Has anyone visited Jane Doe today?” Gabe asked.
“It’s hard to say,” Penny replied honestly. “We’ve been very busy today. There was a birthday party for one of the patients, so a lot of people were coming in and out for that.”
Maggie did her best to curtail her disappointment. She had so hoped that a family member would have shown up to claim the sweet elderly woman by now. But maybe there were other choices, as well. “Did you see a young girl, about twenty, with freckles and long curly red hair walking around here today?”
“No, but again,” Penny cautioned with a serious look at Maggie, “we’ve been really busy today so it doesn’t mean she wasn’t here. Why?”
Briefly, Gabe explained to Penny about the note that had been left by the mysterious jogger. “Hmm. Well, no one has called here,” Penny said.
“Has anyone identified Jane Doe or given you any knowledge of her family?” Maggie asked hopefully.
“Nope.” Penny sighed with mutual frustration. “Not a word.”
“What about at the TV station?” Gabe pressed impatiently.
Penny frowned. “Lane hasn’t called and he promised to let me know personally if they got any clues from the story they’ve been running.”
Maggie looked at Gabe and saw he had the same hopes as she did for the estranged couple. “How are things going with Lane?” Gabe asked.
“Don’t ask,” Penny said, lifting her hand as if it were a stop sign.
“I was hoping—” Gabe said.
“We both were,” Maggie added gently.
“I know.” Penny flashed them both a wan smile. Suddenly she seemed near tears. “But I don’t think he’s going to forgive me.”
“Oh, Penny.” Maggie touched her arm gently.
Penny blinked back tears and offered up a brave smile. “Listen,” she said to them both, swallowing hard, “I’ve got to go. I’ll ask around and let you know if anyone saw the red-haired girl.” She rushed off.
Gabe went on to the nurses’ station, where he picked up Jane Doe’s chart and then he and Maggie proceeded down the hall to Jane Doe’s room. Although the elegant older woman was still using nasal oxygen to help her breathe, she was sitting up in bed and reading the paper. Gabe looked over her chart, then said, “Looks like your fever is down. So is your white count.”
“That’s what they tell me,” Jane Doe noted happily.
Gabe put his stethoscope in his ears and listened to her heart and lungs. As soon as he was finished, he told her, “If you keep improving at this rate, you might be able to go home in a few days.”
Jane Doe looked from Maggie to Gabe and back again. “What about the two of you?” she asked impertinently. “Are the two of you going home together yet?”
Maggie’s jaw dropped in surprise, even as she burst out laughing. As did Gabe. “Now Jane,” Gabe scolded sternly, as he laced his stethoscope around his neck, “that’s not very polite of you.”
“I know what goes on with young people these days,” Jane said, waving off Gabe’s admonishment. “Things happen awfully quickly. There was a time when I didn’t agree with that.” Briefly, her eyes turned misty before she composed herself once again. “Now that I’m old
er and I’ve wasted my own fair share of time, I think quicker and more impetuous might be smarter after all.” She turned her hands palm up. “After all, who knows what tomorrow is going to bring?”
Exactly, Maggie thought. Tomorrow, she might be pregnant. Tomorrow, Gabe might have already lost interest in her—again. Sometimes all you really had was today….
“I’m not sure our families would agree about that,” Gabe said gently. “And speaking of families…” He reached into his pocket and withdrew the letter that had been left on Maggie’s deck. He handed it over, an expectant look on his handsome face. “What do you make of this?”
Jane Doe read the letter.
“Do you have a family?” Gabe pressed.
“I’m very tired now,” Jane Doe said, stubbornly refusing to answer Gabe’s very direct query. She put her newspaper aside and lay back against the pillows. “I think I’d like to rest.”
“If you do have a family,” Maggie said gently, doing her best to convince Jane it was past time to trust someone to help her, “and they really don’t know about you, then it’s probably time for you to notify them.”
Jane Doe turned her head to the side, away from both Gabe and Maggie. “If I had a family,” she said, tears sparkling in her eyes, “and they knew about me, I’m sure they would just want to put me in a nursing home. I’m not going to a nursing home.”
“Do you know who the girl who left this note might be, then?” Gabe asked.
Maggie added, “She had long curly red hair and freckles. She was very pretty and very young. And she obviously cares about you very much.”
For a heart-rending second, Maggie thought Jane Doe was going to confess something. Then she shut her eyes. “I can take care of myself,” Jane Doe said firmly. “I’ve been doing so nearly all my life. The two of you just need to worry about your own romance. And nothing more.”
ABLE TO SEE they had gotten as far as they were going to get in one hospital visit, Gabe and Maggie walked back out into the hall. “I wonder why she’s so concerned about us,” Maggie said, perplexed.
My Secret Wife Page 11
