He smiled warmly in recognition. “Ms. Davies.”
Just my name, and my silly stomach started doing back-flips.
“Good morning, Doctor.”
“Ms. Davies, please call me Nick. If you keep saying doctor I’ll be turning around every time expecting to see the frowning face of my attending from my intern days,” he joked with a roguish grin.
My traitorous heart did handstands in response.
“Yes, Dr.” I began. “Nick,” I amended hastily when I saw his frown.
His face relaxed into a grin and I sank onto the seat in front of his desk, my eyes scanning his credentials on the wall, his stethoscope, anything but his face.
“How have you been since I last saw you?” he inquired.
I cleared my throat unhappily. “Great. Everything’s fine,” I lied politely. I know he was a doctor and all, but I didn’t think he really wanted to hear about how depressed I felt every time I had to go to the store to buy yet another box of tampons.
He looked at me. “Is it?” He leaned back against his seat, one finger slowly stroking his upper lip as he looked at me. “Where is Mr. Peters?”
“He had to work,” I said shortly. “What do we need to do today? You said you had to run some more tests.”
“Yes. It’s not so much, just a few last tests to make certain there are no impediments to your procedure.”
“Impediments?” I asked, stilling. IVF was my last hope of ever becoming a mother and at this rate, I wasn’t sure I could handle any more bad news.
“Oh, nothing to worry about. We’ll basically just try to make sure your eggs can be collected without much difficulty and also check for hormonal imbalances, ascertain what sort of procedure works best for you and all of that. We already did the preliminary exam remember?”
He gazed steadily at me and I could have sworn I felt my cheeks heat. How could I not remember? Every time I closed my eyes I felt his hands on me anew.
I looked down to hide my embarrassing reaction.
He must have misread me because he reached out and patted my hand in sympathy, obviously mistaking my averted gaze for worrying on my part. “It’s alright Ms. Davies. You’ll pull through somehow. Besides it’s practically an unwritten law that beautiful women come with beautifully balanced eggs,” he teased.
I opened my mouth and all I got out was, “Oh.”
He thought I was beautiful?
“I’ll be happy to address any concerns you may have but please be sure and let me know about them, alright?” He grinned kindly at me.
I looked back at him stupidly, wishing he wouldn’t smile at all. There was only so much pressure my heart could take and every time he grinned in that roguish way he had, I could have sworn my heart did handstands.
“I’ll send you to the laboratory for some bloodwork, Ms. Davies and”
“Oksana,” I interrupted huskily through curiously dry throat.
“Excuse me?”
“You said I could call you Nick. I’m Oksana,” I said with a shrug of one shoulder.
I was treated to one more heart-endangering grin and then he said, “Oksana it is.”
As I stood to go, he rose too in one fluid motion, every inch the gentleman. Then he clapped a solicitous hand onto my shoulder and assured in a warm, husky voice as sinful and decadent as hot chocolate in bed on a cold winter morning, “You’re good.”
I didn’t know about that because in that very moment with his hand resting on my shoulder and sending tingling awareness racing through my skin, I didn’t feel good, I felt bad; very bad and very wicked.
I cleared my throat again. “Um, that’s um…good,” I offered lamely.
I didn’t have to see the speculative look in his eyes to know I sounded like a veritable ninny, parroting his words.
“Have a great day, Doctor,” I murmured, taking several hasty steps back for self-preservation. What was wrong with me?
He came around his desk so fast I never even saw him move, but suddenly he was standing right in front of me, his green eyes locked on mine as his head bent dangerously close to mine.
The room positively tilted and I gasped, one hand reaching out desperately to clutch his arm for support.
“Are you alright?” he asked, his eyes shadowed with concern. “You’re not breathing properly!”
I was positively drowning in humiliation. What was wrong with me? He had just touched my shoulder and I had felt like wrestling the poor man onto the floor of his office and mauling him with sex-crazed kisses. And worse, he didn’t even seem to have noticed anything apart from a patient suspiciously close to swooning dead away from oxygen deprivation.
Well good thing they didn’t teach symptoms of lust at my gaze flicked to his certificates on the wall behind him at Harvard.
Of course. Figures. Way out of my league and even if he wasn’t, I was unavailable. Or at least I would be once I got these damn hormones on a rampage back under control.
“Are you alright?” he repeated, clutching my shoulder urgently.
I tried to answer, but as usual when I got within ten feet of the man, my throat was dry as the Sahara.
I licked my lips, and then my breath caught as I watched his eyes slowly follow the tiny movement. When he raised his gaze to mine, unmistakable desire was stamped onto every line of his face.
He dropped his hand hastily and stepped backwards, his face wiped clean of all expression.
“I um, I think you should get on to the labs, ma’am. Please be back here on Tuesday next week, 10am. With your fiancé,” he added in a voice that brooked no discussion.
Then he turned and returned to his desk, picked up another patient’s file and began to read, effectively dismissing me.
I sent one last backward glance at him over my shoulder as I left. He had felt the awareness too. For once I was sure of it! What did it all mean?
His deep green eyes rose from the file in front of him and bored into mine, sending alarming shivers down my spine.
What did it all mean, I wondered again.
“I really don’t want to know,” I muttered to myself under my breath.
I was trying to have a baby with Jake, thank you very much, anything else was dashed inconvenient!
Oksana Davies
I shoved the hood of my parka off my face as I struggled with my grocery bags. I was weary, bone-tired and so discouraged it was a wonder I could stand upright. It had been five months since Jake and I started IVF and yet again, I had gotten my period. I had felt the stirrings at lunch today but I had resolutely preferred to ignore it as though if I didn’t think about it, it wouldn’t come. But I hadn’t been able to ignore the cramps and soggy feeling in my panties for much longer and sure enough when I had gone to the restroom to check, I saw I had gotten my period. My mood had immediately taken a nosedive while my tongue had loosened itself steadily until I had had to leave the office just to spare my colleagues my acerbic tongue.
I was beginning to positively loathe hospitals and doctors and nurses with all their poking and prodding.
“Jake? Could you please come over here? I need you to help me with the door?” I called.
No response. I rolled my eyes, panting heavily as I wrestled my way through the front door and into the kitchen juggling five different grocery bags. Jake and I were entering another phase of our relationship these days. Our conversations were always strained, unnatural, and patently monosyllabic these days.
Adanna thought we were just going through a rough patch because the constant disappointments in getting pregnant had caused understandable friction between us. I didn’t know what to think. I loved Adanna but seeing as she had gone through eight relationships in eighteen months, I didn’t think she was much of an authority on romance.
Jake stayed out longer hours these days, he never wanted any intimacy, and every time I got my period, he acted like I had disappointed him personally as though I somehow conspired with my eggs to resist his sperm.
With th
ese tender thoughts running through my mind, I was biting mad by the time I finally deposited my burden onto the kitchen table. I spied Jake blithely reading a newspaper and sipping a beer and my temper grew to a slow boil.
“Why did you refuse to give me a hand with these bags?” I demanded shrilly. I was starting to sound a lot like a fishwife these days and it frustrated me no end.
Jake didn’t even deign to reply, just turned the page as he studiously continued to ignore me.
My hands tightened into impotent fists at my side and then I turned around and began to unpack the groceries, sternly assuring myself that the burning sensation in my eyes was the result of a migraine and not tears from the debilitating pain rending my heart and breaking it into a million pieces.
I had been having a lot of those burning sensations of late, I realized. I was forever perilously close to tears, even though I preferred to put up my chin and pretend otherwise.
“What about my beer? Didn’t you get any?” Jake asked, coming up stealthily behind me to peek into the bags.
I glared at him and then I turned away. There were no words.
He chuckled. “Really, Oksana, if looks could kill, I would be picking myself off the floor right now.”
He would too. In that very moment, I almost hated him; that didn’t bother me half as much as the realization that I had been feeling a whole lot unfriendly towards him of late.
I had planned to make beef tenderloin for dinner with a simple salad because that was Jake’s favorite, but now, feeling so uncharitable towards him, I wanted to chuck the whole thing into the trash or something. My head was aching with a vengeance as well and I just wanted to curl into a ball and rail at fate.
I looked over at him. “I have a headache, Jake. Can you make dinner?”
He smiled kindly at me, and in that moment he looked a whole lot more like the Jake I remembered and not the frowning stranger that had taken his place these past months. I relaxed my hands unconsciously only to have them instantly ball into fists at my sides at his next comment.
“And why are you feeding me that old wives’ line? I haven’t asked you for sex so there’s no need to play the headache card,” he stated unsympathetically.
I goggled at him, feeling a little like Alice in Wonderland; how had we gotten here? Now Jake might not be the soul of patience, but then again neither was I. Everyone knew that Oksana didn’t suffer fools gladly but these days I seemed to find fools everywhere. I ruthlessly silenced the little voice at the back of my mind that said I was now even more impatient than usual.
“You’re spoiling for a fight tonight, Jake,” I pointed out with a calm I was far from feeling. “Are you feeling alright?”
“Shouldn’t that be my line?” he muttered sarcastically.
Tears sprang to my eyes. I couldn’t even believe this conversation. “What does that mean?”
“I’m not the one who’s been walking around biting everyone’s head off.”
I slammed a can of peas onto the countertop. “Where are you going with this?”
“I don’t know, you tell me. These days I don’t have to work to piss you off. Everything sets you off. I just say one thing and you hit the roof; I smile at you and you’re spoiling for a fight; sometimes I don’t even know how to look at you without you taking it the wrong way,” Jake told me.
I rolled my eyes. This was classic Jake on a rampage. I deliberately took some calming breaths and ignored him as I focused instead on putting away the groceries.
Jake wasn’t done though. “And while we’re on the subject, I’m getting damn tired of these constant trips to the hospital. They have your eggs on ice, so why do they need us all day, every day?”
My hands stilled; he wasn’t saying anything I hadn’t already suspected but somehow, hearing it made it more real. Painfully real. Jake was getting tired of the whole process.
I stalked towards the sink and began to wash my hands, carefully keeping my back to Jake so he wouldn’t see the unmistakable glitter of tears in my eyes. I couldn’t really blame him. With his golfing career and my law practice we had quite a nest egg between the pair of us but lately we had gotten so much lighter in the pocket. IVF would do that to you, and seeing as we had had several procedures without much success, I knew where he was coming from but I really didn’t want to hear it.
The nail in the proverbial coffin had come for me when one of my doctors had announced just two days back that my chances of getting pregnant were slim; pretty slim.
“Oksana? I said” he began.
“I heard you! Everyone heard you clear across New York. If you want out of this, Jake, just say the word. I want this baby and I’m getting it whether you or that damn doctor likes it or not! I want this baby and I will have it with or without you!” I snarled.
“Calm down,” he said, his hands raised palm open towards me in the classic pose of surrender.
I saw red. “Don’t tell me to calm down!” I snapped, advancing towards him slowly, each step measured and sure and threatening.
“Why are you acting like a crazy person?” he demanded unwisely.
“You think I’m crazy?” I whispered softly.
Now he read the danger signs. “Oksana” he began.
“You think I’m crazy?” I boomed again.
Jake moved so fast I never even had time to flinch away; he caught me up in his hands and hauled me flush against his chest. “I’m sorry. I was upset and I took it out on you,” he apologized. “I’m sorry.”
I relaxed against him, needing his warmth and soaking it up like a cat lying in the sun. “Why did you say all those things to me?” I asked.
He sighed, shifted slowly and then used his finger to nudge my chin up towards his face. “We need to talk, Oksana.”
“Oh I’ll say,” I murmured. “I got my period today. Again.”
“Again,” he parroted. “How long will you put yourself through this, Oksana? Honey, the doctor said the last time that your chances of getting pregnant now were slim to none.”
I stiffened, and then jerked out of his arms. “I recall what he said, I was there remember?”
Jake’s head dropped with a weary sigh and then he looked back up at me. “It’s just, a woman your age often has some difficulties conceiving. It’s natural.”
“A woman my age?” I hissed in a low dangerous voice, actually feeling goosebumps grow on my arms.
I could have sworn Jake paled. Nervous sweat stood out on his upper lip, but he persevered doggedly. “Don’t misunderstand me, Oksana. You’re a beautiful, young woman in her prime but you did put off starting a family longer than you should have and now it seems to be a problem.”
I glared at him, even as my heart froze and hardened into stone inside of me. In that moment, I could have sworn I already knew how this moment was going to end. I wouldn’t be cuddled up to Jake tonight, one way or the other.
“So, Jake,” I invited in a saccharine sweet tone that should have alerted him to my mood. But Jake had never been one for noticing nuances. “What do you propose?”
He grinned at me. “I’m glad you’re taking it so well, Oksana. Listen we’ve already spent close to a hundred grand on this and your eggs aren’t taking. It’s turning into a money pit so I say we cut our losses and”
That was how far he got before my palm swung.
The sound of the slap probably shook the rafters but I wasn’t paying attention to them, I was busy glaring right back at the man standing in front of me.
He hadn’t even touched his cheek and I could see deep red welts standing out with the imprint of my palm.
“You deserved that! How dare you call this a money pit?” I cried, squelching my automatic feeling of guilt even as I stared in horror at the effect of my slap. I was not normally a violent person and I really couldn’t believe Jake had pushed me this far.
“You hit me,” he said incredulously.
I jerked away my gaze guiltily. Then I remembered what he had said and my gaze s
napped back to his. “First you implied I was too old and then you called my dream a money pit.”
“That’s because it is!” he shouted. “Open your eyes, Oksana. If you weren’t so wrapped up in your crazed baby rabies, you would know those hospitals are just milking us for all we’ve got.”
Baby rabies! That was all I heard. Baby rabies?
I stared at him, my mouth open in surprise.
Her Designer Baby Page 42
