by Francis Ray
Daniel glanced at Madelyn. She had been too innocent for him—in mind and body. Yet somehow she had touched him more than the most experienced woman.
Her body had responded to his as if they had always been lovers. There was a knowing, despite the hungry desperation that made each touch, each caress fuel the need for more. Loving her had been the most powerful and the most humbling experience of his life.
No one had ever given him so much of themselves so freely or wanted to please him so much.
That’s why he didn’t understand. He knew there was a small failure rate using only a prophylactic, but he also knew they hadn’t failed him in the past.
Not once.
So why had Madelyn chosen to name him the father and not the real person? He didn’t know, but he’d find out who the man was—and if he had done anything to hurt her, Daniel would take care of him in his own unique way. The smile that crossed his face would have chilled a seasoned soldier.
The man should have protected her better. Hell, he should have taken better care of her. If he hadn’t made love to her, none of this would have happened. No matter who the father was, her life had been irrevocably changed.
Just as no matter how it ate at his insides to think about her with another man, Daniel couldn’t leave her alone. That meant he had to stop thinking about the other guy or he’d go crazy.
Yet the craziest thing of all was that he hadn’t been able to forget the brief flash of joy he felt when she had told him she was pregnant.
Chapter 8
“Madelyn. Madelyn. We’re here.”
Opening her eyes, Madelyn lifted her head from the seat with difficulty. Although she wanted nothing more than to be able to lie down and stretch out, she couldn’t get her body to cooperate.
“Let me help.” Once again she was in Daniel’s arms. Knowing protest was useless, she leaned her head against his wide chest and closed her eyes. Once inside she’d send him on his way.
“Do you think you can open the door?”
From somewhere she found the strength to open her eyes. Thankfully she found her keys without digging through her perpetually cluttered purse. Key in hand she leaned over. Dizziness struck. Closing her eyes, she slumped against Daniel.
“Easy, Madelyn. Higgins,” Daniel called.
“Allow me, miss.” Gently the keys were removed from her hands. The lock clicked.
“We’re in,” Daniel informed her. “Hold on. You’ll be in bed in no time.”
Madelyn swallowed and remained silent.
With profound tenderness, Daniel placed her on top of the floral comforter. “We’ll have you undressed in no time, so you can rest.”
Madelyn’s eyes blinked open, glad to see at least that the “we” didn’t include Higgins. She wasn’t quite so sure about the closed bedroom door.
“Just tell me where your nightgown is.”
She attempted to sit up, but dizziness and Daniel defeated her.
“Be still. I’ll get it for you.” He crossed the room and pulled open the top drawer of her triple dresser. “Bingo.” The nightgown spilling from his big hand, he came back to the bed.
“Daniel, this is not going to work.”
Kneeling on the carpeted floor, he slipped off her dark brown suede heels. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m not about to undress in front of you,” she explained, eyeing him wearily.
He stared at her. “You can’t do it by yourself. You can hardly raise your head off the pillow.”
She couldn’t argue with him there. “Maybe after I rest for a little while, I’ll feel better,” she said, trying not to let herself be lulled into forgetting her decision of sending him home.
“Do you really believe that?”
“I want to believe it,” she told him softly.
His hand lifted toward her brow, only to clamp into a fist midway there and settle on the bed. “How about if I help you out of the suit and turn my back while you do the rest?”
Somehow she knew that was as good as she was going to get. Besides, she was too tired to argue. Once she was in her gown, he’d leave. “All … all right.”
His hands went to the tortoise buttons of her orange suit jacket. “After I finish, I can fix you something to eat.”
Her stomach lurched. “Please, I don’t want to talk about food.”
“Madelyn, I don’t think that’s an option.” Another button slipped free.
“I can’t, Daniel.”
He stopped and looked at her. “Yes, you can. There isn’t much you can’t do.”
“Once I would have agreed with you,” she said slowly.
“Meeting me changed that.” Regret flashed across his face. “If I could change things. Go back.”
Somehow his words hurt more than they helped. Tears pricked her eyes. She didn’t want him to see her weakness.
“Don’t cry,” he said anxiously. “Everything will be okay.”
“Will it, Daniel?”
Not waiting for an answer, she bent her head and slipped the last button free on her jacket, then began unbuttoning her blouse. His fingers were quicker. Despite her intentions of getting this over with quickly, she was glad he didn’t try to remove her blouse once it was unbuttoned.
She hesitated only a second before reaching for the side hook on her coffee-brown skirt, then she slid down the zipper. Too vividly she recalled the same rasping sound as Daniel slid the zipper down the back of her gown the night of the Petroleum Ball. As if her mind had a will of its own, she lifted her gaze.
Tight-lipped, he spun away from her. Madelyn didn’t have the luxury of trying to figure out if he was angry with her or himself, but angry he was. Shrugging out of her blouse, she pulled her lacy camisole over her head, then unsnapped the front fasteners of her bra, trying to ignore Daniel’s presence less than a foot away.
Impossible. Especially when, despite everything, she wanted nothing more than to pull him into bed with her and let him hold her. She wanted, needed to be held. She needed to be told everything was going to be all right. She had never felt so in need of another human’s touch in all of her life.
“Everything all right?”
No, she wanted to say. “Yes” slipped out instead.
Grabbing the ecru-colored nightgown on the bed, she slipped it over her head. The heavy satin material pooled in her lap. Now all she had to do was find enough energy to raise up and get out of her skirt and panty hose.
“Decent?”
“Yes, but—” Her words trailed off as he turned. His gaze swept her, instantly seeming to size up her problem.
Standing, he scooped her up in his arms. “Lean against me, and I’ll draw the comforter back.”
She did, inhaling his scent, glad it didn’t make her stomach queasy Sad because in her weakened state it made her want to keep hanging on.
“I’m going to lay you down again.”
He removed her arms from around his neck as soon as her bottom touched the bed, a bottom without her skirt.
Surprised eyes lifted to his. He had the audacity to look pleased with himself. She didn’t want to think of how many women he had undressed to perfect such a task.
He pulled the covers over her legs. “Soup, okay? I’m not much good in the kitchen.”
“I don’t want anything. It’ll just come back up.”
Hands on his hips, he stared down at her. “What did Dr. Scalar say?”
The fact that he had remembered her doctor’s name didn’t surprise her. “That it was normal. He gave me some pills, but I can’t keep them down, either.”
A frown worked its way across his forehead. “How long has this been going on?”
She closed her eyes. She didn’t want to see his face when she gave him the answer. “Off and on for several days.”
The explosion she expected didn’t come. She slowly opened her eyes and cringed. His eyes were saying everything quite eloquently. None of it good.
“Has the dizziness passed?
I’d like to talk.”
Now she understood why he hadn’t said anything. The man never forgot a thing. She scooted down farther in the bed. “I’m really tired, Daniel.”
He stared at her a long time. “I’ll be here if you need me.”
“You don’t have to stay.” Yet in spite of everything she told herself earlier, she wanted him to. She didn’t feel alone when he was with her and being kind.
“Is there anyone who will stay with you if you called?” he asked.
Her lashes lowered. “No. I mean there is, but no one who wouldn’t ask questions that I’m not ready to answer.”
He nodded. “Then I guess I’m it until you’re well enough to throw me out.” Bending over, he unnecessarily adjusted the bed covers again. “Close those big brown eyes of yours and go to sleep.”
After a moment’s hesitation, she turned on her side and did just that.
* * *
Now that he was here, Daniel didn’t have the foggiest notion of what to do. Hands on hips, he glanced around the small rose and white kitchen. He had mentioned soup because he’d always heard of people trying to give you soup when you were sick. He didn’t know if that was what he should be giving Madelyn or not. Obviously she wasn’t going to help.
The logical person to ask was another woman who had been pregnant. His mother came to mind. Bad, bad choice.
Leaning against the white countertop, he tried to go through his list of female acquaintances and came to the conclusion that was another bad idea. He could imagine the questions and the gossip to follow.
He was on his own. Looked like soup was on the menu.
Pushing upright, he started opening cabinet door after cabinet door. To his surprise he didn’t find any soup or much of anything else. The refrigerator wasn’t much better. He thought women stocked food like there was no tomorrow. Obviously he had been misinformed.
He’d have to go to the store. Buying one can of soup didn’t seem to make much sense. Madelyn was just going to have to cooperate and give him a list of what she needed.
Opening her bedroom door, he quietly went to the bed. She slept with both hands under her face. She looked peaceful. He pulled the covers back over her shoulder. There was no way he was going to wake her up. He’d just have to find out on his own.
In the living room, he looked for the keys the efficient Higgins would have placed somewhere easy to find. A set of keys was on the cocktail table along with a brass planter filled with a sprawling silk ivy, several women’s magazines, and a couple of hardcover books.
He reached for the keys. Inches away his hand paused. Beneath the keys was a book on pregnancy.
The thick book was an unwanted reminder of the guilt and anger he was trying to deal with, but it would also contain the information he needed to take care of Madelyn.
He picked up the book. He was flipping through the glossy pages when he saw the chart on fetal growth and development. Everything inside him stilled for a long moment. Without allowing his gaze to drift down the page, he turned the next page and the next until he reached the index and looked up nutrition.
Fifteen minutes later he left with a list of foods.
* * *
“Daniel, I don’t want any.”
“Come on, Madelyn, just a little,” he coaxed. “It can’t be good for you not to eat.”
She eyed the spoonful of clear yellowish liquid inches from her lips, then Daniel. “I don’t remember having any chicken broth.”
“I stopped by the store on the way back with your car—now open.” He moved the spoon closer.
She opened her mouth to say something, and the broth went in instead. She swallowed. It tasted warm and soothing to her dry throat.
“See, have some more.”
She opened her mouth. Maybe the nausea had passed. Several bites later she knew she had deluded herself. She barely made it to the bathroom in time. When her stomach was empty, she wanted nothing more than to curl up into a little ball and roll away in embarrassment.
“I-I’m sorry,” she murmured.
“For what? You have no control over being sick.” Pulling her gently into his arms, Daniel sat on the side of the bathtub with her in his lap. He ran a moist washcloth over her face. “Better?”
She finally looked at him. He didn’t appear disgusted at all. “Yes.”
“I’m the one who should be sorry for forcing you to eat.” His hand brushed across her moist forehead. “I’ll help you brush your teeth, then I’m calling your doctor.”
“Daniel, I don’t know.”
“I don’t, either—that’s why I’m calling the doctor,” he told her, then prepared her toothbrush and handed it to her.
Immediately after she finished she told him, “I feel better already. There is no need to disturb Dr. Scalar on a Friday night. You go on home, too. I’ll probably sleep until morning.”
He handed her a washcloth to wipe the toothpaste off the side of her mouth. “The book said to call.”
“The book?”
Taking the washcloth from her, he placed it on the towel rack, then carried her back to bed. He didn’t answer until she was beneath the covers again. “The book on pregnancy,” he answered, then he was gone.
* * *
Seventeen minutes after Daniel had called Dr. Scalar’s answering service, the ob-gyn had yet to return the call. It was six thirty. To Daniel, who was worried he had done more harm than good by forcing Madelyn to eat, it wasn’t a good sign. Maybe he should have Madelyn get a new doctor—one who answered calls.
When the phone did ring, he jerked it up. “Yes.”
“Dr. Scalar returning your call.”
“About time. Madelyn can’t keep a thing down, and she fainted twice. I gave her some broth like the book said, and she threw it up. You have to do something now to make her feel better.”
“And to whom am I speaking?”
“Daniel Falcon.” The name slipped out without a moment’s hesitation. He wasn’t above using his name to get the man moving.
“And what’s your relationship to Madelyn?”
This time the answer came more slowly. “I … I’m responsible.”
“I should have known that the minute you started rambling. Let me speak to Madelyn.”
He never rambled. “She’s resting.”
“That may be, but until she gives me permission to discuss her case with you, I can’t do so,” the doctor said evenly.
Daniel wasn’t pleased by the man’s obstinance. “But I told you I’m responsible.”
“I heard you the first time, Mr. Falcon,” Dr. Scalar returned calmly. “And I know you’ve made quite an impression on our city, but your name is not on one piece of information Madelyn filled out—and until it is, I’m going to speak only to her.”
“Hold on,” he said in rising irritation. Entering the bedroom, he picked up the phone on the nightstand, then touched Madelyn’s shoulder. Her eyes opened almost instantly. The weakness in them tore at his heart and dissolved his anger.
“Tell the doctor it’s all right to talk with me, then you can try to rest.”
Without rising, she took the phone. “Dr. Scalar. It’s all right. No, the pill didn’t stay down this morning or yesterday. Since Wednesday evening. I don’t—” She handed the phone back to Daniel.
“Yes?”
“All right, Mr. Falcon, this is how I see things. Madelyn hasn’t been taking care of herself because she’s too tired, and the nausea and vomiting are only compounding the matter. Pregnancy is rough when it’s planned. Unplanned it can be ruthless on the body. You follow me so far?”
Daniel liked the doctor even less. “Yes.”
“Good. You did right to give her broth and to call me. If she had been able to keep her pills down, I don’t think this would have happened. Give her the pill again with just enough water to get it down. Four hours from now give her a couple of sips of carbonated soda; do the same four hours later.”
He paused briefly then contin
ued. “Give her the medicine in the morning as directed. Thirty minutes later give her a couple of saltines and a small amount of carbonated beverage. If she keeps that down, give her some of that chicken broth or something else light. Do this to make up five or six small meals. If it all stays down, good. If not, call me back. Understood?”
“What if she doesn’t keep it down?”
“Don’t get worried until I get worried. I saw her Wednesday. She’s fine and the baby’s fine. Anything else?”
Daniel glanced at Madelyn, who was watching him with those big brown eyes of hers. “No, we can take it from here. Good night.”
“Good night. By the way, I’ve known Madelyn since she came to Houston. I’m glad you’re there with her. Good night again.”
Daniel replaced the receiver.
“What did he say?”
He explained everything the doctor had said, except the possibility that the nausea might continue.
“Didn’t you explain you didn’t stay here?”
“It wouldn’t have mattered. Tell me where the pills are, and I’ll get you some fresh water.”
“Daniel, I didn’t mean for this to happen.” She sounded miserable.
“I know.”
Thankfully, after a few anxious moments, the pill stayed down. Madelyn was so relieved and so pleased with herself, it didn’t take much coaxing on Daniel’s part to get her to slide back under the covers.
Switching the lamp on the bedside table to its lowest setting, he walked back into the living room. He hadn’t intended this to happen, either, but somehow he was squarely in the middle of Madelyn’s life and that of her child.
He didn’t want to be there—he just couldn’t think of any other place he’d rather be.
* * *
Except for one scary moment at Madelyn’s second meal, she did fine. Saturday and all during the day. She had ceased worrying about Daniel being there and was just thankful he was. She couldn’t have taken care of herself.