by Alyssa Kress
Hell, Valerie didn't know what such a kiss would have said. In the first place, it hadn't happened. Instead of kissing her, he'd retreated, withdrawing into that faraway place he seemed to go. With his eyes cool and his expression distant, he'd given her a curt nod, then turned to stride down her walkway to his car.
In the second place she wasn't supposed to be waiting on kisses from Roy. She was supposed to be clear on his place in her life. He was the father of her child, a necessary partner in that endeavor — and no dreams of anything more.
But Valerie couldn't help wondering what that kiss might have meant — if it had happened.
"But right now I have to get back to work," Valerie muttered to herself. She forced her eyes down to the chart in her hands.
She blinked a few times at the name typed there. "Nicholas Gordon." Nicky. Oh, yeah. Valerie blew out a deep breath. Back to reality, and with a vengeance. Putting on a reassuring smile, she pushed open the examination room door.
"Nicky," she said, and blocked her reaction to seeing him so pale and exhausted. "Mrs. Gordon. Oh, and Mr. Gordon, too. Good to see you."
"Hey, Dr. K." Nicky lifted a hand in greeting, but didn't attempt to perform any complicated handshakes. Valerie wondered how he'd managed to perch himself on the high examination table. Perhaps Mr. Gordon, bluff and muscular, had helped him up.
"Richard wanted to hear you explain it himself," Mrs. Gordon told Valerie.
"We went through the whole thing with the hematologist," Mr. Gordon put in. "Nicky has aplastic anemia, which means...?
"My bone marrow isn't working." Nicky shot a long-suffering look at his father. "It's that simple."
Mr. Gordon shot an annoyed glance back at his son, then turned to Valerie. "He said the only effective cure would be a bone marrow transplant."
"Well, yes." Knowing the family didn't have the money to pay for that transplant, Valerie chose her words with care. "A transplant would have the best chance of restoring Nicky to full health. In the meantime we'll be giving him immunosuppressives and growth factors."
"Huh," said Mr. Gordon, starting to look flushed.
Valerie and Mrs. Gordon exchanged a glance. "Richard started his own business, contracting, you know," explained Mrs. Gordon. "We didn't have anything extra for, um, well...extras."
Extras like medical insurance. Yes, Valerie knew. She'd been over this before with Mrs. Gordon, but apparently Nicky's mother felt the need to explain away her guilt yet again.
Seated in the Mom chair, Mrs. Gordon twisted her hands together. "This wouldn't be an issue if we hadn't found a match," she said.
Nicky's eyes widened. "Andrea is not a match."
Now Mr. and Mrs. Gordon were the ones to exchange glances. Mrs. Gordon addressed Valerie. "Nicky's little sister, Andrea, turns out to be a perfect match. We've been extremely lucky."
"Yes." Valerie felt a bubble of hope. "Finding the right donor is crucial." Well...along with finding the money, but details...
"I am not asking my five-year-old sister to have an operation," Nicky stated emphatically. "It hurts. Dr. Bernstein said so."
"Any pain would only be temporary," Valerie told him. "The right medication should help her feel better almost immediately."
"I'm not doing it," Nicky said.
Mrs. Gordon twisted her hands some more and gave Valerie a helpless look.
"Um, well." Again, Valerie found herself picking her way with care. "There are a lot of details to work out before anything could be done, in any case, Nicky." Like finding half a million dollars. "In the meantime, we want to make sure you're taking care of yourself."
"I know, I know. Be super strict about washing my hands. Stay away from kids who are sick. No sports." Nicky heaved a deep sigh.
"How have you been feeling?" Valerie asked. "Remember, if you think you're getting even a minor cold, sore throat, cough, you call and let me know, okay?"
Nicky heaved another sigh. "Okay."
Mr. Gordon cleared his throat. Sounding defiant, he declared, "We're going to get the money."
Everyone in the room tensed. Valerie had been over this with Mrs. Gordon in private. They had no way of coming up with the money — not enough equity in their home for a loan, nor enough in Mr. Gordon's business. There were no rich relatives, no treasure hidden in the backyard.
"So you schedule this transplant thing," Mr. Gordon blustered.
"I'm not going to do it," Nicky put in, and shot his father a dirty look. In that moment Valerie realized Nicky's intransigence was as much to save his parents from guilt as to save his little sister the pain of a bone marrow donation.
The realization made her own guilt splash like acid through her veins. He was such a great kid. They all should have been able to do better for him.
Valerie could see her own sense of helplessness reflected tenfold in Mrs. Gordon's eyes.
She walked out of the examination room probably not in a best frame of mind in which to deal with the problems in her own life.
But Cherise seemed determined Valerie deal with them. "I thought you and I were supposed to have dinner together tonight," she told Valerie, narrow-eyed, as Valerie walked up to the nurse's station in the hall. "But he's here."
"Excuse me?"
"Your husband," Cherise said.
"What?" Valerie blinked. "He's here?"
"Husband?" This came from Dr. Peter Lindstrom, who stalked around the corner at this extremely inconvenient moment.
Valerie simply opened her mouth.
"Uh oh," said Cherise, but without appearing overly guilt-stricken.
"What are you talking about?" Peter looked at Valerie.
Valerie pressed her lips together and glared at Cherise. But Cherise was in the same Teflon mood she'd been wearing for days. She only lifted her shoulders, oh, so innocently, before turning a smile on Peter. "Roy Beaujovais," she explained. "I think you met him a couple weeks ago. He's married to Valerie."
Peter's eyes widened. "What? You mean, that guy — Now, wait a minute. That was Roy Beaujovais?"
"You heard her." This came from Valerie, who'd gone from embarrassed to outraged at the expression of incredulity on Peter's face. Just because he hadn't wanted her didn't mean she was completely unwantable. "Roy is my husband."
Peter's mouth opened and closed a few times. Much to Valerie's combined disgust and amusement, he seemed at a complete loss.
Valerie turned back to Cherise. "Where is he?"
"I put him in your office." Cherise gave her a too-wide smile. "Thought you'd appreciate some privacy."
"Thank you." Valerie was determined not to let Cherise see her rattled. "You were right. Some privacy would be nice."
"Hm!" said Cherise.
Peter was staring at Valerie. It was not in the least a flattering look, still containing blank disbelief. "Valerie — " he started.
"Not now, Peter." Valerie wasn't interested in whatever veiled insult he intended to deliver.
"I want to talk to this guy," Cherise told Valerie, in a warning tone. "Just because my life is a mess doesn't mean yours has to be, too."
"What?" Valerie asked, then shook her head. "Whatever."
"Right," Cherise said. "Soon."
Feeling overloaded, Valerie backed away. "Okay, okay. But right now, I'm going to talk to him, if you both would excuse me?"
Cherise looked ready to excuse Valerie — for the moment. Peter was still opening and closing his mouth like an incredulous fish. Valerie didn't wait for him to recover himself. She turned on her heel and stalked to her office. With a sharp movement, she opened the door.
In her haste to escape her colleagues, Valerie did not adequately prepare herself for dealing with her husband. He was standing by the wall that held her diplomas, but wheeled as he heard the door open. Suddenly Valerie was staring into his wolflike, implacable eyes.
His tough, unapologetic masculinity hit her all over again. She drew in a sharp breath, and struggled to tamp down her arousal. "Roy," she said, and prod
uced a polite smile.
"Valerie," he replied, and didn't attempt to smile at all.
But instead of feeling miffed, Valerie felt another rush, this one of hope. Were his emotions in as much chaos as hers, too much chaos to allow him the common civilities?
Roy cleared his throat, and finally managed a small smile. "I got into town a little early," he explained. "Thought I'd meet you here."
"Ah." Valerie felt the edges of her smile dance. Did that mean he'd been anxious to see her?
Roy lifted a shoulder. "On the phone you said you were starting to enjoy eating again. Maybe you'd like me to take you out."
Valerie's heart jumped. He wanted to take her out... Was that a date? Something about just the two of them, and not the baby? "Oh." She was nearly struck dumb by the pounding of her heart in her ears. "Um, sure. That'd be nice. I mean, it would be nice to go somewhere other than home for a change. For dinner, I mean."
Roy's smile widened. Because she was being comical? Or because he was relieved she'd said yes?
She had no idea. None at all. Ever since Roy had gone into this strange, almost diffident, thing, she couldn't figure out what was going on.
For example, now he deliberately tempered his smile, made himself look like the cool cucumber again. Why? "Fine," he said. "Shall I wait here until you're finished with work?"
"I'm done." Valerie gestured toward the hall. "I just saw my last patient."
"Oh. Then we can go?"
Valerie shrugged out of her lab coat. "We can go." Her heart was pounding again. They were going out on a date...sort of... Maybe. Oh, who knew? She tried to still the shaking in her hands as she hung her lab coat on the coat tree in the corner. This was ridiculous. She'd slept with this man. She was carrying his baby. And now she was nervous because they were going to have dinner together?
Roy opened the door to the hall and Valerie walked through.
The hall was empty, except for Cherise, idly sifting through some charts at the nurse's station. "So," she said, looking up. Her eyebrows rose as she peered past Valerie's shoulder. "I suppose now you intend to bring him along."
Valerie's stomach sank. That's right, she'd promised to have dinner tonight with Cherise. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Cherise — "
"No." Cherise waved a hand. "No apology necessary. Like I said, it's okay if you bring him along for our night out. Fact is, I wouldn't mind a chance to get acquainted with your husband."
Oh, boy. Valerie's stomach sank further.
Meanwhile, behind her, Roy tensed. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure," he rumbled.
"Cherise Winter," Valerie said. From their many phone conversations, he ought to know who that was.
"And you're Roy Beaujovais." Cherise gave him an evil smile. "Horning in on my night out with Valerie, but like I said, it's okay. I have a few things I'd like to say to you."
"Is that right?" Roy nearly purred, a sound that sent warning signals up Valerie's back. "Then by all means, why don't you join us?"
Cherise's evil smile did something strange. If Valerie wasn't completely crazy, it jumped into something very nearly pleased. By Roy's threatening tone? "Shall we meet at Cowboy John's?" she asked.
Roy looked at Valerie. His eyes were pools of pure wolf-ness.
"I — " Valerie rolled her eyes and lifted her hands. "Whatever."
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Roy shouldn't have come back, or at least not so soon. Because it was happening again. From the minute he'd walked into her office with all her things, simply waiting for her, he'd started to go all wiggy again. Soft inside. Mushy.
He should have kept a safe distance for a while, but no, here he was. A moth to a flame. Valerie had walked in and he'd felt the strongest urge to go up to her, to hold her, to...just be close to her. Weird. Not quite platonic, but not totally sexual, either. Big, however. Whatever he felt, it was very big.
Fortunately, distraction had come in the form of Valerie's bossy friend, Cherise. She seemed to think she had a claim on Valerie. All Roy's competitive instincts had jumped happily to the fore, eclipsing for the moment those less definable, less familiar emotions.
Now they were sitting in a corner booth of a rambling restaurant with a heavy cowboy theme. Longhorn steer horns adorned the walls, along with cowboy hats and various implements of the old West range. Amid all this celebration of rural outdoorsmanship, Valerie's friend, Cherise, looked both distinctly out of place and regally superior. She also looked like she meant to chew Roy to bits.
Roy didn't mind. Valerie, however, appeared to want to sink into the fake leather upholstery next to him. He longed to put an arm around her, to comfort her, to protect her — hell, just to touch her. But Valerie would think the gesture possessive, Cherise would think it an act, and Roy — well, Roy was actually too scared to touch her.
Scared. Yeah, unfortunately, that was the correct word.
"So," Cherise said, once the waitress had set a brace of iced teas in front of them. She smiled at Roy without showing any teeth. "So, you're the man who knocked Valerie up on a one-night stand in Las Vegas."
Roy choked on the swallow of iced tea he'd taken. He wiped his mouth with the back of a hand and lowered on Cherise the sort of glare he'd give a sucker who was daring to raise on his pot-killing bet. "That's not exactly how I'd describe myself."
"No?" Valerie's friend raised her queenly eyebrows. "Then how would you?"
"Oh, for heaven's sake," Valerie muttered.
Roy ignored her attempt to pooh-pooh the battle at hand. He leaned his forearms on the table and eyed Cherise like a guy who was holding the nuts. "I'm the man who married Valerie, and who's going to take care of her and our baby."
Cherise continued the haughty look, but Roy wasn't a millionaire poker player for nothing. He could see she was shaken. For some reason, she hadn't expected this much integrity from him. It made him wonder exactly how Valerie had been painting him, or if she'd painted him in any colors at all. Didn't she talk about him to her best friend?
"Well," Cherise said, and looked like she was gearing up for another round, but Valerie interrupted.
"There's no need for you to protect me, Cherise." Valerie sounded both disgusted and embarrassed. "I'm perfectly capable of making my own judgments about people."
Cherise snorted. "I wouldn't be so sure about that."
"If you're referring to the man who doesn't need to be named — "
"Peter," Roy supplied.
Valerie shot him a slit-eyed look and continued. "If you're referring to that man, well that was a completely different situation."
"I'll say," Cherise retorted. "You weren't married to him, or pregnant with his child."
Valerie flushed.
Roy took one look at her distress and turned on Cherise. "I thought this session was supposed to be about grilling me."
Cherise looked surprised. "You want me to grill you?"
"If it'll get you to leave Valerie alone."
"Well," Cherise said, leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest. "Well, well, well."
Roy lifted his chin. "So. What do you want to know?"
"Frankly," Valerie said, interrupting once again. "I don't see how anybody rates a grilling, except maybe a steak or something, which reminds me that I'm actually hungry. Could somebody pass a menu?"
"I want to know this guy's intentions," Cherise said.
"I know his intentions," Valerie replied, "and that's all that matters."
"Do you?" Cherise retorted. "Do you really?"
At that, Roy couldn't help looking at Valerie, too. Did she know his intentions? Did he even know what they were any more?
Valerie kept her gaze, pointedly, on Cherise. "I know enough," she claimed. But Roy thought she turned a slightly dusky hue. "Now can we please eat? Maybe if Roy is in a forgiving mood we can still have a nice dinner here." And then, as if she couldn't help herself, she glanced toward Roy.
It was like a punch — her eyes, warily apologetic, her mouth unconscio
usly ripe, the whole appealing essence of her. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and carry her far, far away. He wanted to make her his in some powerful, but ill-defined way.
Most of all, though, he wanted to be absolutely sure she had no idea of his present weakness.
"Oh, all right." It was Cherise's voice, long-suffering, and oddly defeated. "It's not as if I've been acting with perfect rationality, myself, lately." Roy saw an almost frightened expression cross her face before she gestured. "Why don't you hand me a menu, too?"
Roy frowned. For a moment Cherise had looked the way he felt, whatever that was. His face, however, was poker bland as he handed Cherise one of the oversize menus sitting in a pile in front of him. "Here you go."
"Thank you," Cherise said.
"You're welcome," Roy replied.
"Thank God," Valerie muttered.
~~~
Well. If that hadn't been weird. Valerie drove into her garage thinking the dinner she'd just shared with Cherise and Roy had been strange and disorienting. For one thing, Cherise had gone from Roy-hating banshee to...almost cordial. For another, Roy had barely exchanged glances with Valerie, and yet she'd felt his presence hugely beside her, protective, claiming...maybe even tender. It had been as if — strange to think — but as if he'd been too shy to look Valerie in the eye.
"Weird," Valerie muttered, as she turned off her car's motor. "Too weird to understand." Although a part of her could make sense of Roy's behavior, a crazy part of her. "No," Valerie said, with a curt shake of her head. "It is too weird to understand."
A large masculine shape materialized out of the darkness beyond the open garage door. Roy.
Valerie was careful to keep her smile bland as she closed the door of her car and faced him. "You made good time."
He lifted a shoulder. His expression was the Roy special: impenetrable.
For the first time Valerie thought to question that. Why did he so often hide his thoughts and feelings?
"I'll, uh, just open the door." She turned and made a determined effort to slow her heart rate as she unlocked the door from the garage to the kitchen. She could feel him, though, like a prickling in the air.