Not Even if You Begged

by Francis Ray

  “I was going to go in the morning and take Traci with me, but since the mechanic found nothing out of the ordinary with the flat, I changed my mind,” Ryan said. “Traci’s determined that we not let Elisa ruin this or any other evening.”

  Finished, the mechanic waved to them, then got in his truck and drove away. “You two go on your date,” Simon said quietly. “I’ll stick around for a while with Maureen.”

  “Thanks. I’d rather Mother not know about the security firm,” Ryan said. “She’s worried enough.”

  “Your mother is a strong woman. It would be my guess that the information would reassure rather than upset her,” Simon said as they started back toward the women.

  “She is, and you’re right. Mother was dead on when she said we were fortunate you were in Charleston.”

  Simon just hoped Ryan continued to feel that way when he found out Simon was attracted to his mother.

  Maureen couldn’t relax.

  “Don’t worry. They’ll be fine,” Simon said.

  Maureen looked up at Simon. His arm was around her shoulder. It had been there since Ryan and Traci had left moments ago. Despite her fear for Ryan, she took comfort from Simon being with her.

  “Come on. Let’s get you inside.” Simon started for her front door.

  Maureen’s gaze searched around her. “You didn’t see her. Although I know Ryan, for a moment, just a moment, she had me thinking there was some validity to her accusations.”

  Simon kissed her forehead as they continued up the walk. “Don’t blame yourself.” Stopping at the front door, Simon opened the door with the key she handed him.

  Maureen placed her keys back in her purse. “I can’t get over the feeling that her supposed love for Ryan runs as deep as her hatred for him.”

  “You’re probably right.” Inside the house Simon sat on the sofa, drawing her down beside him. “But, as of tomorrow, her every move will be shadowed. She won’t get a chance to hurt Ryan or Traci. Hopefully, her father will get her the help she needs.”

  Maureen placed her head on Simon’s shoulder. “It might sound strange, but I almost feel sorry for her. She’s unbalanced, and her perception of love is warped. Love shouldn’t cause pain.”

  “No, it shouldn’t.”

  The soft drawl of his voice had her tilting her head upward. She saw the sensual curve of his lips, the proud nose, the mesmerizing eyes. Then things blurred as his head lowered, his warm lips finding hers.

  His lips brushed once, twice, across hers before settling firmly. Gently his tongue slipped into her waiting mouth. She sighed with pleasure. Her hand tunneled through his thick black hair, relishing the feel on her fingers.

  As with his other kisses, her body woke from sexual slumber and quickly remembered and relished this duel of tongues, the sweet pleasure, being content to let the passion build. Her breasts tautened, her nipples hardened. She wanted to feel his hands on them.

  As if attuned to her, his large, calloused hands cupped her breasts. The soft moan was impossible to hold back even if she had wanted to. She wanted to know his touch, wanted more of his kisses that heated her blood, want—

  Heat flashed through her in one mood-altering moment, dewing her skin. Frantic, Maureen scrambled out of Simon’s arms before he could feel the moisture on her skin. Embarrassed, she couldn’t look at him. Oh, Lord.

  “I’m sorry.” Her head lifted at the contriteness in his tone. “I’m moving too fast. It’s just—” His cell phone rang. For a moment she thought he was going to ignore it. “It’s Patrick, or I wouldn’t answer.”

  She barely managed to nod that she understood. How could she tell him he wasn’t going too fast at all?

  “Patrick, I’m—” Simon came to his feet. “Slow down. Just slow down so I can understand you.”

  Maureen went to him, her own problems forgotten. “What is it?”

  Simon held up his hand for her to wait a moment. “How long has she been cramping?” Then, “Did you call the doc— Can’t the service understand she wants her own doctor, not a substitute? This is her first baby!”

  Maureen finally understood a little of what was going on. Ryan was very well respected in his specialty. Doctors did favors all the time for each other. She tugged Simon’s sleeve.

  He held up his hand again. “I’ll meet you at the hospital. You drive carefully and tell Brianna to hang in there with my niece or nephew.”

  Maureen realized he was going to hang up if she didn’t talk fast. “What’s the doctor’s name? Perhaps Ryan can persuade him to come in.”

  Gratitude flashed in Simon’s dark eyes. “What’s the doctor’s name?” Stunned, he turned to stare down at her. “Ryan Gilmore.”

  Traci was having a wonderful evening with Ryan.

  He was amazing. He made her feel like a woman, not a cold reject. The surprise was dining and dancing at a posh restaurant where the prices weren’t listed on the menu. The room was lavish, the staff attentive. But the best part was being with Ryan.

  Now, on the dance floor in his arms, she didn’t feel frigid or lonely or overweight. She felt alive, desirable, seductive. Curled into his arms, their bodies close together as they moved on the polished hardwood floor to the music of a four-piece band, she felt as if she were coming out of a cocoon.

  “This is wonderful.” Her head lifted. “Thank you.”

  “Thank you.” His hand cupped her cheek. “Your skin is so soft. Like velvet silk.”

  She did something that would have been unthinkable before tonight, before Ryan. She twisted her head and kissed his palm. He made her think of things, sexual things that she wouldn’t have dared before. She was definitely blossoming.

  Ryan’s sharp intake of breath made her feel powerful. His eyes stared into hers. A silent signal seemed to pass between them. “Are you ready to leave?”

  “Yes.” Her voice was breathy, husky. She realized the sound was due to her arousal. He led her off the dance floor, stopping only long enough to pay their bill. On the way to the front door, Ryan’s phone rang.

  “I hope that’s not your answering service,” she said. She had plans for him.

  “Not to worry. Another doctor is on call.” Outside, he pulled his cell phone from his inside coat pocket. “Hello, Mother. What—”

  Handing the claim ticket to the valet, Ryan’s gaze went to Traci. “Simon, give the phone back to Mother and call your brother and let him know that I’m on my way to the hospital.” He disconnected the call.

  “Traci, I’m sorry, but I have to go to the hospital,” Ryan told her, hoping she’d understand. “I couldn’t turn Mother or Simon down.”

  “You wouldn’t be the man I care about if you did. Let’s hurry.” Traci recalled her suspicion about the reason behind Brianna’s rushed marriage as Ryan’s car pulled up. “Did Simon call for his brother’s fiancée, Brianna Ireland?”

  “How did you know?” Ryan asked, his brow puckered into a frown.

  “Woman’s intuition.”

  Brianna Ireland’s family had come out in full force.

  The moment Ryan entered the waiting area for the maternity ward, he was swamped by people he didn’t know, but who apparently knew and cared about Brianna. There was an attractive elderly couple he assumed were her parents. They had their arms wrapped around the other, their faces pinched with fear.

  As long as he’d practiced medicine, he’d never get used to the anxious faces of friends and relatives, each one expecting him to make things right. The responsibility was awesome, but he’d never shirk that responsibility, never wanted to do anything else.

  Simon quieted everyone. “Thanks, Ryan. Patrick is with her.”

  “I’ll let you know something as soon as I can.” He saw his mother in the background and nodded at her. She knew the answer wasn’t always the one those waiting wanted to hear.

  Traci squeezed his arm and stepped back.

  He went to the double door, pulling off his dinner jacket. He’d already ordered stat blood work. Bri
anna was three months pregnant and miscarriages weren’t uncommon in the first trimester. But Ryan wouldn’t borrow trouble until he’d done a thorough exam.

  “Dr. Gilmore, Ms. Ireland is in room nine.” Head Nurse Simmons matched his steps, taking the coat, handing him a lab coat and a chart. “The lab results are all normal. Litmus test reveals no amniotic fluid. The pains are high, spasmodic. No uterine contractions. Her B/P spiked until her fiancé joined her. Fetal monitor good.”

  So far. So good. “What would I do without you?” An astute OB-GYN head nurse was worth her weight in gold.

  “Luckily, you won’t have to find out,” she quipped, smiling at him.

  He pushed open the door to Brianna’s room. Patrick whirled, still gripping Brianna’s hand. Tears pooled in her eyes.

  “I don’t want to lose our baby,” she cried.

  “You’re not, honey. Our baby is fine.” Patrick brushed her hair back from her damp forehead. Ryan saw the fear in Patrick’s eyes, which he desperately hid from Brianna. “Dr. Gilmore is here. Just relax.”

  “Good advice. I don’t see anything for us to worry about at the moment.” Ryan went to the sink, washed his hands, and gloved. “Now, let’s see what’s going on.”

  Gas pains.”

  There was stunned silence at Ryan’s announcement, then joyous laughter. Traci breathed a sigh of relief and thanked God. She and Brianna might be on opposite sides because Traci’s client was Andrew Crandall, and his soon-to-be ex-wife was Justine Crandall, Brianna’s best friend, but Traci wished Brianna no ill. She saw Brianna’s father kiss her mother. Brianna was fortunate in more ways than one.

  “One word, beneath her elation is a little embarrassment. But, as I told her, I’d rather us know than guess in a pregnancy, especially in the first trimester,” Ryan told them. “She’s lucky to have so many people care about her.”

  “She’s lucky to have you as her doctor. So are we.” Simon shook Ryan’s hand, then slapped Ryan on the back. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to call my other brothers.”

  Traci stood with Maureen in the back of the waiting area as the people there introduced themselves to Ryan. Her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Ireland, were first. Next came one of the three owners of Bliss and her husband. Patrick and Simon’s niece, Brooke, was part owner of the bath and body shop.

  “Hello, Justine,’ Ryan said. “I figured you’d be here with Brianna since you’ve been friends for so long.”

  “We’ve always been there for each other. This is another friend of ours, Dalton Ramsey,” Justine introduced, and the two men shook hands. “We understand you were out on a date.” Tall, elegantly shaped, she smiled warmly. “Thank you and your date.”

  “You can do that personally.” Ryan turned to Traci and held out his hand for her to join them. Every person centered their attention on Traci.

  Traci had never felt so exposed or unworthy. Justine wouldn’t want to meet her once she learned she was the one who had helped her cheating husband.

  “Traci?” Ryan called, a frown marring his face.

  A hand in her back nudged her forward. It was Maureen, who knew Traci at her worst and was her friend anyway. Her head up, she joined Ryan, felt his arm circle her waist. “This is Traci Evans. She understood and insisted we hurry.”

  Justine’s eyes cooled. “Did she?”

  Traci saw Dalton’s arm around Justine’s shoulder tighten. Another man who protected a woman. They were more than friends; they were lovers. Once she might have had that with Ryan. Not now, not ever. The people surrounding her thought she was no better than the cheating people she represented, just as Justine did.

  They were right.

  “Brianna!” her mother cried.

  People converged on Brianna in a wheelchair with Patrick beside her, holding her hand while an attendant pushed. Usually impeccably groomed, her hair was spiked on her head. “I’m so embarrassed.”

  “Nonsense.” Her mother hugged her. “Dr. Gilmore is right. The thing to do was check.”

  “Is he still here, or did he rush off with his date?” Brianna quipped in her playful way.

  “He’s here,” Justine said. The crowd parted.

  Traci tensed and waited. She didn’t have to wait long.

  The happy expression vanished from Brianna’s face. “Dr. Gilmore, I thought you had better taste.”

  A hush fell over the waiting area.

  Ryan felt Traci tense. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her chin lift. To other people she might appear invincible. He knew differently. She hurt.

  “Brianna,” Patrick hushed.

  “If you’ll excuse me.” Traci started to leave, but Ryan had no intention of letting her go. He was grateful that his mother moved to stand beside Traci.

  “Brianna, you might be more cordial to the person who told me to hurry,” he told her softly.

  “That was before she knew who I was,” she said, her gaze angry.

  “You’re wrong, and you’re wrong about Traci,” Ryan replied. “She’s a gracious, caring woman. You could learn from her.”

  Brianna’s eyes fired. “I—”

  “Brianna,” Patrick and her mother said at the same time.

  “In view of the events, I feel it is in your best interest if I assign you to another doctor. Good night.” There was a babble of voices. The wide-eyed wheelchair attendant heard every word. Ryan left, knowing that before morning the altercation would be all over the hospital.

  He didn’t care. All he cared about was the trembling woman in his arms.

  C h a p t e r

  13

  What could she say?

  How could she expect a man like Ryan to understand why she represented clients she detested? If she tried, the reason would only make him run from her. She was a mercenary and merciless, without conscience or pity. If you had enough money, you could hire her.

  “Are you all right?” he asked as soon as they entered her house.

  “Why shouldn’t I be?” she said, continuing to the great room and tossing her purse on the sofa.

  He caught her, turning her to him. “You asked for honesty and trust. Your rules.”

  “You mean, do I feel as if I should take a hot bath to scrub off the dirt I’ve helped my clients wade through, then yes,” she said tightly.

  His hold tightened. “You did a job. Brianna was in corporate law before she came back to Charleston to take over her father’s law practice. You can’t tell me all the clients she represented were always squeaky clean.”

  She pushed out of his arms. “I’m tired. I want to go to bed.”

  “Great idea.” He scooped her up into his arms.

  Her eyes widened in alarm. “What are you doing?”

  “That should be obvious.” His feet pounded on the stairs.

  “This is not funny,” she told him as he reached the landing. She tried to keep her body stiff when all she wanted to do was press closer, weep in his arms.

  “Who’s laughing? Which way?”

  “The front door is back down the stairs,” she said, trying to keep the tears of self-pity at bay. She’d made her choice long ago.

  “Now who’s being funny?” He sniffed the air.

  Alarmed, she asked, “What are you doing?”

  “Searching for your room.” He started down the hall to the left. “I have an excellent sense of smell. The perfume you’re wearing is exotic, seductive.” He stopped outside her bedroom door. “You wore it for me.”

  It was a statement, not a question. One she couldn’t lie about. “Yes.”

  He kissed her briefly on the lips and pushed open her bedroom door. She wanted to hide her face. She’d thought tonight might be the night they made love and had left the bedroom neat and clean, changed the sheets, pulled down the duvet and set candles on the dresser ready to be lit.

  He looked at her, his eyes darkening. Her body tingled. Her nipples tightened.

  “Ryan,” her voice trembled.

  “I’m here, and I’m not goin
g anyplace.” He set her on the bed, then hunkered down to remove her high heels and thigh-high stockings. Air stuck in her lungs as he slowly rolled them down her legs.

  “You are so beautifully made.” Still kneeling, he looked up at her. “One day I’m going to take great pleasure in kissing you in all the places I’ve fantasized about.” Slipping off his shoes, he pushed upright, then removed his tie and belt. He unbuttoned his shirt, tossed it aside. Picking her up again, he lay down with her, tucking her back against him.

  “Ryan.”

  He pulled the covers over her shoulder. “I’m here, honey. Go to sleep.”

  Her throat felt tight. She’d never felt so cherished. He cared about her despite what she did for a living, despite what others thought of her.

  “Thank you.”

  He kissed her bare shoulder. “You need to sleep.”

  She shook her head. “I mean about Brianna. Justine is her client and her best friend. I—” She bit her lower lip. “I was the PR person for Justine’s adulterous husband. I helped him skirt the major part of the blame. The woman Andrew had the affair with is married and pregnant. He might be the father. The husband of the woman was once Andrew’s closest friend and confidant. The man was crushed, but he’s standing by his wife … at least until the baby is born and the paternity is established. It’s anybody’s guess what will happen if the baby is Andrew’s. I hope it’s not, or Andrew can add another victim to his list.”

  His hand under her chin turned her toward him. “Did you enjoy helping him?”

  “No. His mother wanted me to go after Justine. I refused. I knew she was living with Dalton.” She sighed. “I set things up for Andrew to appear remorseful, although I knew he wasn’t.” Her gaze lowered for an instant, waiting for Ryan’s condemnation.

  “You did your job. You can’t control people’s actions.”

  He was certainly right about the last part. No matter how much she’d tried not to care, she did, and the feeling grew each time they were together. “Ryan, I can’t sleep with my dress on.”

  He scooped her up, set her on her feet with her back to him and slowly inched down the zipper that stopped in the middle of her back. Reverently he parted the ivory material.