With his free hand he gripped her breast and squeezed it towards his mouth, an offering of a pink, rosy nipple, which he nipped gently with his teeth. Before she realized what she was doing, she gripped his hand and pulled it to rest on the skin of her waist, beneath the waistband of her jeans.
He plunged his mouth down on hers while his hand fumbled with the button and zipper of her pants. His breathing quickened as he encountered the tiny lace panty underneath, and cupped his large hand over her mound.
The phone rang.
Alyssa froze, her body going stiff. With her ears she heard the phone, but her body was soaking in the love and attention his right hand was now bestowing on her lower body and his mouth was giving her own. He evidently had not heard the phone ringing, or had decided, the phone be damned, what he was doing was much more important.
The phone rang again.
She stopped kissing him and turned her face away from him. “Grant!”
“Yes, baby,” he murmured and positioned himself next to her on the couch so he had both hands free to unzip and begin his exploration of her most intimate of areas.
And the phone rang again.
This time he heard it because he stopped what he was doing and stared at her, slightly perplexed. “I have to get that,” she said.
He pulled himself to his feet, allowing her passage to the phone. Panting softly, she stood quickly and holding her unzipped jeans up around her waist, raced for the phone on the table across the room. “Hello?”
“Alyssa? Hi. It’s Mona.”
Mona. Bethany’s mother. “Yes. How’s it going over there?” She hoped fervently that her voice sounded normal, like the only thing Bethany’s mother had interrupted was a rousing game of solitaire. Not getting naked with one of the … hell, the sexiest guy she’d ever met in her life.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but …”
“Is Caroline all right?”
“Well, no. That’s why I’m calling. She’s had a couple nosebleeds.”
“A couple?” She glanced over at Grant. He was standing beside the couch, his hair still ruffled, his breathing not quite normal, but intent on studying her one-sided conversation. She pointed to her own nose. He nodded.
“Yes, she had one shortly after she got here. We got it stopped. Then they were playing outside and it started again. She came in and it was a little tougher this time, but we got it stopped again.”
“Twice?” Alyssa said, her heart in her throat.
“No, actually three times. Another one started about ten minutes ago, and Caroline’s a little stressed out. She wanted me to call you.”
“Of course. Shall I come over? Or can I talk to her on the phone?”
“Hold on.” There was a muffled sound of Mona talking to Caroline, then she came back on the line. “She’d like you to come over.”
“I’ll be right there. Thanks for calling.”
As she was hanging up, she looked over at Grant. He was pulling his shirt on, covering that delicious chest that would require a more thorough study – at another time. There was a time and a place for everything. And right now, it was time for Caroline.
“I’ll drive you.” He searched around the couch for his shoes.
“You don’t have to.” She zipped and buttoned her jeans with shaking hands and looked around for her bra. It had to be around here somewhere.
They both spotted it at the same time. They leaned and bumped into each other. He chuckled and lifted the prize between his thumb and forefinger.
She smiled and felt a flood of warmth flush her cheeks. She reached out and snatched it from him. “Thanks.”
She turned her back, suddenly modest while she fastened her bra. This was too much for her to handle at the moment. Getting intimate with her big shark client in a fit of lust, and now dealing with this nosebleed situation with Caroline. No wonder her pulse was racing to the point of dizziness.
She turned to find her sweatshirt and walked straight into Grant’s solid form. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest.
“I have to …”
“Shhh,” he whispered in her ear. “I know. But take a minute.”
She struggled vainly and then sunk into the warmth and strength of his arms. She blinked back tears that were threatening to emerge. She took a deep breath and audibly exhaled.
“It’s okay.”
His quiet words in her ear made her shudder. It was so nice to have him here, not only because of their earlier activities, but for his sheer comfort factor.
“Look, what happened just now….,” he said.
She held her breath. Would he brush it off? Minimize it? Because if he did, she didn’t think she’d ever quite recover, not considering how monumental it had been to her.
“… was terrific. It was great, and it was what both of us wanted. But this is more important. Caroline needs us.”
She looked up at him. She gazed into his eyes and saw sincerity and caring. He truly believed what he was saying – that it wasn’t just a lustful reaction to being alone in the apartment. It was terrific. And she’d wanted it very much.
“It was exciting. I’d never felt anything like it,” she said.
He used his index finger to trace a line from her temple, over her cheekbone and then to her jaw. “So don’t feel odd about it, Alyssa.”
She blinked and looked away. He was right, of course. “Raincheck?”
He grinned. “You bet. Now, finish getting dressed and I’ll drive you over to Bethany’s house. See what our little girl needs to get her feeling better.”
Alyssa smiled and nodded. A few minutes later, they were out the door.
Chapter Thirteen
Ever since the call from Dr. Scott’s office came a few days ago, “The doctor has Caroline’s test results back and he’d like to discuss them with you,” she’d been on pins and needles. If the results were negative, or inconclusive, why would he need to see her? Obviously the results pointed to something that concerned him. Or, at the very least, something they needed to talk about.
The wait in Dr. Scott’s patient room was shorter this time, which was a relief to Alyssa.
“Caroline Stark,” said the nurse at the door.
“Come on, sweetie.” Alyssa held out her hand and helped Caroline up from where she sat on the floor, assembling a jigsaw puzzle. They followed the nurse to an examining room and after the height and weight measurements, the nurse tucked Caroline’s chart in the bin on the wall and left, shutting the door behind her.
Alyssa got to her feet and paced the tiny room. Caroline watched, moving her head back and forth as she paced. “What’s the matter, Mommy?”
She’d better get a grip on herself, or she’d have her daughter as nervous as she was. She forced herself back into a chair. “Oh nothing, honey. Want me to read you a story?”
Caroline nodded, selected a book from the basket on the floor, and brought it to Alyssa. She climbed into her lap and settled in as Alyssa started to read.
Around page 10, the door opened and Dr. Scott breezed in. “Hello,” he said, studying the patient file the nurse had left. He sat in a chair with wheels and rolled over to the two of them. “I have some news from the blood test.”
Alyssa’s heart was racing, and she hoped that whatever he needed to tell her would be minimal compared to what her worst fears had come up with.
Dr. Scott quieted a moment and gazed at Caroline, who was running her finger over the illustration in the book she held in her lap. Then he met eyes with Alyssa. “Caroline has a condition known as thrombocytopenia. It’s a disorder in the blood. She doesn’t have enough platelets, so it’s difficult for her blood to clot.”
Alyssa stared. A million questions invaded her brain, but she needed to concentrate on what the doctor was telling her so that she could deal with it. “Has she always had it?”
“I’d guess, no. Nosebleeds and bruising are common symptoms of the disorder, so if you just started noticing these in Ca
roline, I’d say she’s recently developed it.”
“She has had several more nosebleeds since we last saw you and they really upset her.”
The doctor nodded. “There are several ways to treat this, but I’ve had good results with a platelet transfusion.”
“Transfusion.” Alyssa felt a ringing in her ears. Her baby, needing a blood transfusion?
“Yes, it’s a little uncomfortable for the patient, but Caroline’s already shown she had no problem with the blood aspiration. I think she’ll be fine with it.”
“What will the transfusion accomplish?”
“It’ll remedy the decreased platelet count that her body has manufactured, and her ability to clot should increase.”
“For how long? Is this a one-time thing, or will it need to be a regular occurrence for her?”
“Good question. We won’t know until after the transfusion. Of course, we’ll keep a close eye on her to see how her body accepts it. In fact, I’d like to do the procedure one morning, and keep her overnight for 24-hour observation. If her body isn’t putting up a fight, then she could go home, and it could be a one-time treatment. Or, at least, once in a great while until the symptoms show up again.
“Now, if her platelet counts don’t stay up, we’ll have to try something else. But let’s not ask for trouble. I’d like to follow this course of action and I have every reason to believe it’ll go well.”
Caroline stood and wandered over to the book basket again. She pulled one out and sat on the spot, flipping it open and turning the pages. Alyssa watched her, her little girl oblivious to the conversation between her mom and the doctor, unknowingly assured in her knowledge that her mother would take care of her, would do the right thing for her. Alyssa said a small prayer that she could live up to that blind confidence.
“So, how soon does this need to be done?” She tore her gaze back to the doctor.
“Normally, I’d say in the next week. But the blood tests also showed me a fact that might make that timing a little difficult.”
Alyssa frowned.
“Do you know Caroline’s blood-type?”
Alyssa thought hard, then shook her head. Caroline had always been healthy. The occasional ear infection or sore throat, sure. But to her knowledge, she’d never had her blood tested. “I have no idea. Why? Is it pertinent?”
“Yes, in this case, it is. We need to find donor platelets that are consistent with Caroline’s, a very unusual blood type known as O. In fact, of the two O blood types, she’s got the most uncommon – O negative.”
Alyssa nodded. “So, what’s that mean?”
“Only about 6% of the American population has O negative. And the reason that’s important is that Caroline can only receive platelet donations from someone with O negative.”
“And it’s rare,” Alyssa responded. “Do you have O negative blood in your banks?”
He shook his head. “I had my nurse call the hospital before you came in. They are at crisis levels in the blood bank. Generally, they like to have at least 100 units a day of O negative. Right now, they have only six. It’s considered the universal donor, so it’s the most useful blood type.”
Alyssa shook her head, confused. “Wait. You said it’s rare. But it’s the universal blood type? Why?”
The doctor laid his file on his lap and put his hand on top of it. “O negative donors are very important because their blood type can be given to anyone in need. It can be transfused to any patient. However, people with O negative are very limited in receiving blood. It has to be O. They cannot receive any other blood type.”
Alyssa exhaled through puffed cheeks. “Okay, so my daughter needs a transfusion, and it has to be the very blood type that the hospital has reached crisis levels on.”
“Yes. The hospital is reserving the six units for accidental injuries and neonatal transfusions. None of them will be allowed for planned procedures like Caroline’s.”
“So how can I locate more O blood?”
“If you can find a donor with the proper blood type and that person meets the Red Cross’s requirements, we can reserve that blood for Caroline’s procedure. I would suggest you do that in the next few days.”
“I’m her mother. What’s the chance that I’m O too, and just never paid much attention?”
“It’s entirely possible. In fact, let’s do a finger-prick and we’ll know conclusively.”
Alyssa nodded. The doctor got up and walked to a cabinet in the corner. He rummaged around till he’d pulled out an antiseptic swab, cotton square, and a dulcet supply. Alyssa held her finger out and the doctor swabbed it. Pulling the dulcet out of its wrapper, he said, “Ready?”
“Yeah.”
A quick stab on her fingertip, and she saw the dulcet repository fill up with blood.
“Be right back.” The doctor left the room.
Alyssa gazed at Caroline, her mind racing. She’d call her parents as soon as she got home. They must know what their blood type was. If either of them could donate, she wouldn’t let the miles between them be a barrier. She’d get their blood to her daughter somehow.
The doctor returned with a disappointed look on his face. Alyssa gave him an eyebrows-up wordless question.
“You are Type A.”
“Which means …?”
“You could receive blood from Caroline, but she cannot receive blood from you.”
“Damn!” Alyssa said under her breath. “Well, I’m going to call my parents to ask their blood types. I’ll hope that one of them is O. If they’re not, I’ll have to do some brainstorming.”
The doctor nodded. “What about Caroline’s father? He’d have the proper type to be her donor.”
Alyssa whipped her head towards the doctor. “How can you be so sure?”
Dr. Scott shrugged. “It’s the only way Caroline could’ve ended up as O type, with you, her mother being A type. She had to get the recessive O type from her father.” He stopped. “Do you want a mini lesson on the science of this?”
Despite the tension of the situation, Alyssa smiled. She shook her head. “No thanks. But I do want to go back to what you said about Caroline’s father having to be O, and the fact that he could be her donor.”
Dr. Scott nodded. “There’s no guesswork there. Caroline’s father was type O negative, just like her.”
“Okay. Doctor, let me get to work on this. I will locate a donor and get them in here, and we’ll get Caroline what she needs for her procedure.”
“Good luck.”
* * * *
Grant tapped his fingertips on the desk, his mind no longer on the production report in front of him, despite all its colorful graphs, pie charts and elevated numbers that on a normal day he’d be quite pleased with. He leaned back in his chair, his fingers now steepled in front of his chest. He checked the clock on his desk: 3:40.
He pulled his cell phone out of his shirt pocket and pushed an auto dial number.
“Hello?” The single word, spoken in her voice, made his heart race faster, a feeling of well-being circulating through him.
“Hi. It’s me. How was the doctor visit?”
She took a shaky breath and let it out.
An icy feeling attacked his chest. “What is it, Alyssa? Is she all right?”
“She has some sort of blood disorder and she needs a transfusion.”
“Oh God.”
“I know. I’m still a little in shock. I never even saw this coming.”
“Is it serious? Is there a decent prognosis? Is she … is she going to be okay?”
Another sigh. “I didn’t even get that far. I need to find a donor with a rare blood type.”
Grant shook his head. “Where are you?”
“Now? I’m at the office.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He flipped the phone shut and flew out the door. Miranda looked at him, eyebrows up, as he strode by.
“Cancel anything I have for the rest of the day and take messages of any phone calls.”
She gave a mock salute. “Yes, sir.”
He made tracks getting to his car, screeching his tires on the way out. As he drove, his thoughts raced.
He’d be damned if he finally found his little girl – built the start of a relationship with her – enjoying every second with her – only to lose her to a blood disorder. It couldn’t happen. It wasn’t right.
If he had anything to say about it – and he did – she would get everything she needed to get over this – to recover and be healthy again. He would use all of his contacts and considerable resources to make sure she was fine.
As he drove, he pushed the accelerator and the needle on the speedometer went higher and higher.
He’d lost one child. No way would he lose another.
He concentrated on the road and brushed a hand over his eyes which had suddenly become moist. He knew his tendency was to huff and puff and pretend that he had control over every situation. Unfortunately, the hard reality, as he was all too aware, was that he didn’t.
For the rest of the ride, he repeated a mantra in his head. Whether it was a prayer, or the power of positive thinking, he had no idea and didn’t care. Let her be all right. Let me help her. Let her get what she needs to be well again.
The city traffic slowed him down and he fidgeted in the driver’s seat, his anger at the other drivers causing his body temperature to increase and his heart rate to race. Finally, he arrived at the high rise on the corner of Madison and 31st, found a parking spot about a block down, and jogged. He checked in with the security desk, and since the officer had seen him enough in the last few months and was now familiar with him, allowed him entry onto the elevator and lifted the phone to alert Alyssa. The entire ride up to the 27th floor, he worked on controlling his breath that was coming in spurts, and the trembling of his hands.
The doors slid open and Alyssa stood there, waiting. He rushed out, stopped in front of her and took her hands in his. Alyssa looked deep into his eyes and he could see her fear lying there. Without thinking, he took her in his arms and held her, whispering, “We’ll make her well. She’s going to be fine. You have to have faith.”
Hidden Agenda Page 14