Champagne and Moonlight

by JoAnn Ross

  If the sun was any brighter, she’d think they were in Hawaii. He was obviously eager to get rid of her. Shiloh tried to tamp down the disappointment she felt when he didn’t at least suggest she consider staying on in Paradise a few more days.

  Their parting outside the lodge, as he put her suitcase into the back seat of her car, was as awkward as their earlier conversation. Wanting to recapture of bit of last night’s magic, he leaned into the driver’s window to kiss her goodbye. Unfortunately, she chose that minute to turn her head, causing his lips to hit her eye.

  After muttered apologies on his part and assurances from her that she was fine, Shiloh drove away. Out of Paradise. And out of his life.

  If her vision hadn’t already been blurred with tears, and if she’d dared look in her rearview mirror, Shiloh would have seen him standing alone on the sidewalk, hands thrust into the front pockets of his jeans, looking every bit as forlorn as she felt.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “There’s got to be some sort of mistake!” Shiloh stared at Dr. Karen Silvers in disbelief.

  “You shouldn’t be that surprised. Since it’s the same answer your home test kit gave you.”

  “I figured it was a false positive. I mean, things like that happen all the time, right?”

  “They happen. But not this time. You’re definitely going to be a mother, Shiloh.” The doctor grinned. “It must have been one hell of a New Year’s Eve.”

  Shiloh had met Karen Silvers at the health club where she worked to keep her voluptuous curves under control. And although they’d become friends, she could have done without the enthusiasm. “It’s certainly turning out to be memorable.”

  “Who’s the father? And please don’t tell me it’s Kenneth.” Shiloh had shared the story of her abandonment over pineapple freezes in the club bar after one of their workouts.

  “I thought you liked Kenneth.”

  “I only pretended because you were so determined that he’d turn out to be Mr. Right. Personally, I thought he was a weenie.”

  Having come to the same conclusion, Shiloh managed to laugh. Then she immediately sobered as her mind returned to her dilemma. “Kenneth and I never made love.”

  Karen arched a brow. “You’re kidding.”

  Shiloh sighed. “I managed to convince myself that he was saving himself for our marriage.” What he’d been doing, she realized, was indulging in a little harmless foreplay with her, then rushing off to his skinny, sharp-tongued assistant. “So, to get back to your question, there isn’t any father.”

  “Unless you recently received tidings of great joy from some angel you forgot to mention, I’m not buying that story.” Karen folded her arms across the front of her white lab jacket. “So, what are you doing for the next thirty minutes?”

  “Other than having a nervous breakdown, I didn’t have anything planned. Why?”

  “Obviously you need a refresher course on how babies are made. Perhaps I should get out the animated video showing all those cute, energetic sperm swimming up to woo mama egg.”

  “I’m on the Pill,” Shiloh reminded the doctor. She’d wanted to be ready for the day Kenneth succumbed. “And he wore a condom.” Although she’d admittedly gotten carried away with the romanticism of the champagne, the moonlight, the midnight hour, she hadn’t been foolhardy enough to forgo protection.

  The gynecologist whistled. “Talk about hitting the jackpot. Perhaps you ought to buy a lottery ticket on your way home.”

  “I’m glad someone’s enjoying this,” Shiloh muttered.

  “I’m sorry.” Karen’s expression immediately sobered as she switched from friend back to physician. “I take it this isn’t good news?”

  “I don’t know.” Shiloh dragged her hand through her hair. “I’ve been thinking about how much I’d like children someday—”

  “From your lips to God’s ears,” Karen interjected quietly.

  “Surely you don’t believe in divine intervention? What about those spunky little swimmers you mentioned?”

  Karen turned thoughtful as she made a brief note on Shiloh’s chart. “There’s biology. Then there’s fate. And miracles. During the ten years I’ve been practicing, I’ve witnessed all three.” She folded her hands on the top of the desk. “If you don’t want this baby, you should make the decision soon.”

  “This baby might not have been planned, but I intend to keep it.”

  “Fine.” Karen nodded. “Then we need to set up a schedule of appointments.” She scribbled onto a prescription pad. “Meanwhile, you should begin taking vitamins. Do you have any questions?”

  “I don’t know.” Shiloh felt shell-shocked.

  “They’ll come to you when the idea starts sinking in. You should make a list, since people tend to forget things once they walk in the office door.” She gathered up a few brightly colored folders from the credenza behind her desk. “Here’s some basic information on what you can expect over the next few months. And a list of recommended books. And, of course, you can always call me any time between appointments.”

  “Thanks.” Shiloh took the folders, rose to her feet on wobbly legs and managed to somehow converse long enough with the nurse to make an appointment for the following month.

  A baby. The words reverberated through her head as she drove to her bungalow. She was going to be a mother. A single mother, she reminded herself. Because despite Karen’s quip about visiting angels and eager sperm, her baby didn’t have a father.

  “Of course the baby has a father,” Savannah insisted that evening when Shiloh called with the news. “Obviously you need to contact the doc and have him live up to his responsibility.”

  “I believe shotgun weddings have gone out of style.”

  “I’ll bet the General would disagree with that.”

  “Oh, my God.” Shiloh quit pacing her compact living room and sank down onto the couch. “I didn’t even think about his reaction.”

  “The Gulf War was probably less explosive,” Savannah said with what Shiloh considered inappropriate cheer. “But I wasn’t talking about making the guy marry you, honey. I was talking about him living up to his financial responsibility.”

  “I don’t want to take any money from Matt.”

  “Terrific. Go ahead, be independent. And while you’re doing your ‘I am strong, I am invincible, I am woman’ act, you want to tell me how you’re going to pay for pablum when you’re not working? Granted, I don’t know a great deal about the movie business, but I would guess that there’s not a huge demand for pregnant women in horror films. Even if they can scream and swoon on cue.”

  The idea that she’d soon be unemployable stayed with Shiloh all during a sleepless night. By the time the sun had risen, she’d made the decision to go back to Colorado. Although she was still uncomfortable with the idea of asking Matt for money, at least he deserved to know that he was going to be a father.

  * * *

  Damn. Six weeks had gone by without so much as a word from Shiloh Beauregard, and although he’d tried to convince himself that she hadn’t been as gorgeous, as sexy, as terrific as he remembered, the moment she walked into his office, looking like the siren who’d been haunting his dreams, Matt knew he was sunk.

  “Hello, Shiloh.” He managed to keep his tone matter-of-fact. “It’s good to see you.”

  “I hope you mean that.” Suddenly horribly nervous, facing this controlled man who seemed such a stranger across the room, Shiloh twisted her fingers together behind her back.

  “What do you think?”

  “You didn’t call.” She hated how needy she sounded.

  “You never gave me your number,” he reminded her mildly. “And you’re not in the book.”

  “You called information?”

  “Three times.” He’d kept hoping he’d get an operator capable of being charmed into giving him the information he’d so desperately wanted. He hadn’t. “I also called the studio. But apparently they’re used to strange men professing to know you. The drago
n lady who answered the phone told me in no uncertain terms that if I wished to communicate with you, I could send fan mail to the studio post office box.”

  He’d tried to call her! Hope fluttered its fledgling wings inside Shiloh. “I’m sorry about that. I wish I’d known.”

  He shrugged. “You could have called me.”

  “I know.” She sighed. “But you didn’t seem all that happy to be with me the next morning—”

  “I don’t recall either of us being exactly scintillating conversationalists that morning.”

  “About that night…” Words failed her.

  Because it had been too long since he’d touched her, Matt stood up, went around the desk and ran his palms along her shoulders, soothing her tense muscles. He found the idea that she was nervous around him more than a little endearing.

  “About that night,” he coaxed. Her pink angora sweater was as soft as a cloud. Matt knew from experience that her skin was even softer.

  His eyes were warm and inviting. His caress, meant to soothe, did just the opposite. Shiloh bit her lip and tried again. “Speaking of that night,” she repeated quickly, eager to get the words out before she lost her nerve, “I’m pregnant.”

  His fingers tightened just enough to reveal his shock. “What?”

  “I’m pregnant,” she repeated. Her shoulders sagged beneath his palms. “You’re going to be a father, Matt.”

  Pregnant. Father. The words reverberated in his head. “That’s impossible.” He cringed when he felt her stiffen and mentally blasted himself for responding so bluntly. “I mean, we used protection.” She’d even put the condom on him the second time. Or was it the third?

  She gave him a faintly censorious look. “You’re a doctor. You should know they’re not one hundred percent effective.”

  “True. But I seem to recall you mentioning you were also on the Pill.”

  “I am. Was.” She’d stopped taking the little pink pills the minute she’d gotten the results of her home test kit.

  Matt’s first thought was that women had been trapping men in just this way since the beginning of time. His second thought was that there was no reason a Hollywood actress would want to trap a country doctor whose yearly income probably didn’t equal what she spent at the hairdresser’s.

  “I also seem to recall something about your boyfriend having just dumped you.”

  The question hovered unflatteringly between them. “Kenneth and I never…I mean, he didn’t really want to, and—”

  “What was he, dead?”

  Despite her discomfort, Shiloh almost smiled at that. “Actually, he was sleeping with another woman.”

  “So he wasn’t dead, just crazy.”

  This time she did smile. “Thank you. And it really is your baby, Matt, but of course, I’ll understand if you want tests—”

  “Let’s jump off that bridge when we come to it.” He dragged his hand through his hair and considered his options. “Obviously we’ve got a lot to discuss.”

  “I’d say that’s an understatement.”

  This was definitely not a conversation to have here in his office, where he suspected Millie was poised outside with her ear to the door. And the restaurant at the Silver Nugget was definitely out.

  “Why don’t we go to my place? I’ll throw a couple steaks on the grill. Then we can come up with a plan.”

  Relieved at how well things were going, Shiloh agreed.

  Although the mood was definitely more strained than the last time they were alone together, as he tended to the steaks and she put together a salad, they managed to exchange small talk without a great deal of discomfort.

  It was later, after he’d put the dishes in the dishwasher and they’d moved into his study for coffee, that things began to fall apart.

  “I want you to know,” Matt assured her, “that although legally it’s your decision, I’d have to fight an abortion.”

  “That was never an option.”

  Matt let out a breath he was unaware of holding. “Okay. So, we already agree on something.” This might, he considered, go more smoothly than he’d first feared. “I fully intend to live up to my responsibility.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “I also understand that you’re in a unique position. You probably won’t be able to work once you start showing.”

  “There’s not a lot of demand for pregnant women in my line of work.”

  “That’s what I figured. So, it only makes sense that I support you for the next few months.”

  “You don’t have to—”

  “It’s my child you’re carrying, Shiloh,” he reminded her. “You’re the one who’s going to suffer morning sickness and swollen ankles and backaches. This is the least I can do.”

  “Can you afford it?” She glanced around his cozy log home, which, while extremely comfortable, was far from ostentatious.

  “Unless you get a sudden yen to set up housekeeping in Beverly Hills, I can manage.”

  “It took two of us to make this baby. I’ll want to earn my share of expenses.”

  He waved her offer away with an impatient hand. “That’s not necessary.”

  “Yes. It is.”

  For the first time since she sprang the news on him, Matt looked honestly aggravated. “Are you always this stubborn?”

  “I prefer to think of it as being independent.” The General, having no patience with slackers, had raised both Savannah and Shiloh to stand on their own two feet.

  As frustrated as he was by the turn this conversation had taken, Matt couldn’t help noticing that she was awful cute when she was being earnest. The way she jutted her chin forward made him want to kiss her. Reminding himself that’s how he got into this predicament in the first place, he resisted the temptation.

  “I thought we’d agreed that you’re not going to be able to get any work.”

  “Not acting, perhaps. But I’m not exactly helpless. I happen to have a college degree.”

  That came as a surprise. “In what?”

  “Theater arts. With a minor in music,” she admitted reluctantly. She decided this wasn’t the time to mention her failed singing career. Or the songs she kept sending to Vince Gill, Kathy Mattea, Reba McEntire and other country stars, hoping someday someone would recognize her potential.

  He folded his arms across his chest in a knowing way that made her want to smack him. “I rest my case. Let’s move on to working out a visitation schedule.”

  “Isn’t that a little premature? I’m only six weeks pregnant,” she reminded him. “Do you always plan things out so far in advance?”

  He’d always prided himself on considering all sides of an issue before acting. Except for that New Year’s Eve. And look how that had turned out.

  “I take it you have something against an orderly life?” Even as he said it, Matt hated how stiff and stodgy the words made him sound.

  “Not at all. Although I’ve always preferred to go with the flow, I can appreciate that some people might feel more comfortable planning ahead. But orderly is one thing. Monotonous is another.”

  The accusation he heard in her voice stung. “I don’t remember you being bored on New Year’s.”

  “No.” A soft, reminiscent smile touched her eyes. “I was many things that night. But bored definitely wasn’t one of them.”

  He felt it again, that age-old stir of a male for his mate. He resolutely pushed it down. “Getting back to the subject of visitation, obviously, the child will live with you in Los Angeles during the year. But I’d like to request summer vacations. And perhaps half the holidays.”

  She hated the way he was making this sound like strictly a business arrangement between strangers. After all, if they hadn’t gotten extremely personal, they wouldn’t be having this discussion in the first place.

  “Like New Year’s?” she asked pointedly, reminding him of a night Matt knew he’d never forget.

  He could tell she was angry, although about what, he couldn’t understand.
Matt figured he was being a lot more accommodating than most men in his position. Reminding himself that her out-of-control hormones were bound to contribute to mood swings, and eyeing the faint purple circles beneath her eyes that suggested she hadn’t been getting enough sleep, he decided they could continue this conversation another time.

  “You’re right,” he said. “We’ve plenty of time to hash out the details. Why don’t I take you over to the hotel, and we can continue this discussion tomorrow morning?”

  It was more than a little obvious that he couldn’t wait to get rid of her. “Fine,” she agreed, refusing to let him know how badly his curt attitude hurt.

  Neither spoke on the drive into town. But by the time she’d checked back into the governor’s suite and had several cups of tea in the hotel restaurant, Shiloh was more than a little dispirited.

  “He’s definitely not my type,” she mused aloud as she stared into the cup, as if hoping to find some solution to her dilemma in the dark amber depths. Matt McCandless was strong and dependable without being overbearing. He was passionate, but tender. He was, in so many ways, the man she’d been dreaming about all her life. The man she hadn’t truly believed existed.

  Despite a disastrous track record when it came to men, Shiloh knew that a lot more had happened on New Year’s Eve than two people sharing a mutual attraction and making a child together. She desperately wished life was like a book, so she could skim ahead and discover the ending. Since it wasn’t, she was just going to have to do the next best thing.

  “I can’t walk away without seeing how things turn out.”

  That much settled in her mind, Shiloh swallowed the last of the cooling tea, paid her bill, then went to the reception desk, where Dorothy Brown was chatting with Fletch. “You wouldn’t happen to know if there are any jobs available in town, would you?”

  Dorothy revealed not an iota of surprise as she considered Shiloh’s question. “I’m afraid not. This being the ski season, all the good jobs were filled weeks ago.”

  “What about the not-so-good jobs?” Shiloh wasn’t proud. She had, after all, worked as a dog beautician her first year in Hollywood. In fact, she’d gotten her first acting job when she’d shown up at a producer’s house in Bel Air to shampoo his Airedale.