by Dee Tenorio
He watched her steadily as she came to grips with what he was telling her. He didn’t hide his greed for her any more than she had for him. It didn’t take long for her to feel it. Her breath went shallower, her gaze darkening and her eyes taking on a sleepy, sensual gleam that had him wondering if this exam room door had a lock.
“Just for the weekend, right?”
He nodded. To start… Two nights stretched out in a warm bed with a fireplace and a private bathroom that bore the real clincher—a Jacuzzi tub that could soak him and her with room to spare. He’d bet real money she’d be as happy to return to her mean little bed as he was.
Was he being underhanded and sneaky to seduce her into moving in with him by any means possible? Absolutely. He’d promised to be patient, not fair. Step by step, he planned to lure Susie to her permanent place in his life. If everything went as he hoped, she’d wake up one day and happily notice that they’d been married for twenty years.
She opened her mouth to answer but right then, a polite knock at the door and the knob turned in his hand.
The doctor had arrived.
For a man who supposedly knew so much about babies, he sure was asking a lot of questions. Susie played a visual tennis game, her gaze bouncing from her lover to her new doctor until she started to get dizzy.
“Locke, we have six more months of appointments,” she finally growled, grabbing his hand and squeezing his fingers as tight as she could so she could drag his attention from the pretty little brunette who seemed to be doing her level best to give him an answer he’d accept. “Please don’t make me kill you before we get to the second one.”
“I just want to be as sure as possible that you’re both safe.” Yup, she could practically knock on the lack of remorse in that sentence.
“And I just want to finish this appointment before I freeze my bare ass off.” She smiled at him as sweetly as her gritting teeth would allow.
He stared down at her, brows drawn into that frown she knew too well.
“Don’t. You. D—”
He dropped one of those fast, brain scrambling kisses on her, right in front of Penelope. She swallowed the whimper that tried to escape when he pulled away, opening her eyes slowly.
“Better?” he asked, stoic as always, his gaze locked on her as if Penelope wasn’t in the room with them.
Yes. “No.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, but he didn’t call her on the lie. He hadn’t called her on much all week, which was sweet but almost as aggravating as when he did. That just wasn’t how they did things. She understood, but it was making her insane.
“Tell you what, Mr. Jackman,” Penelope said into the quiet between them. “Let’s finish the exam and then we’ll see if I can’t give you a few more concrete answers.”
Locke’s jaw ticked, but he eventually nodded. Poor man was hanging on by a thread. Susie twined her fingers with his, sucking in a breath when Penelope folded down the paper sheet to the lowest part of her belly and squirted a clear gel neatly onto her skin. Unlike the other offices where she’d had procedures done, this time, the gel was warmed. The nurse turned off the lights, making the monitor of the screen the only light source and Locke nearly jumped.
“What’s that for?”
“She’s going to do an ultrasound,” Susie answered before Penelope could. She’d had this done before, had already been versed in what she should find on the screen. Even though she hadn’t bled, hadn’t had pain, the litany repeating in her head wouldn’t stop—please don’t be empty. Please don’t be empty…
A fuzzy image filled the small screen. Small black outlines showed the edges of things, but not enough that Susie could figure out what they were looking at. Penelope quietly manipulated the machine’s dials and controls, stopping from time to time to focus on something and make the ultrasound print.
“Aren’t we supposed to be able to see the baby?” Locke asked gruffly. Susie looked at him, taking in the shadowed lines on his face, his deeply drawn brows. Could Penelope see his disappointment? She must, because she sent him a gently reassuring smile. Susie decided she could keep seeing this woman for that alone.
“Not so much from this angle, no. But don’t worry, we’ll get there. The baby is only twelve weeks, which is still quite small in the scheme of things. I wanted to be as thorough as possible, is all. This ultrasound isn’t as strong as the ones in the imaging center, so I wanted to set up a baseline. Uterine size, take a look at your ovaries, see if there might be any external keloidal scar tissue we need to be concerned with.”
“And is there?” Locke’s frown could have been carved by a rock. All the same, Susie was glad he asked. She didn’t have the nerve.
Penelope pulled away the triangular-headed apparatus, wiping it off before handing it to her nurse to put away. She smiled, reassuring and friendly. “Not that I could see. It’s not common without surgery, but it’s always good to check the bases.”
Cara gave Penelope another tool, this one long, thin and with a small ball at the end. Penelope held it in place as the assistant slid a thin sheath over it, then squirted more goo on the end. That job completed, Cara circled the doctor and began pulling out the metal stirrups from the end of the table.
Locke sidled closer to Susie’s head. “Is that thing what I think it is?”
Unfortunately. “Don’t be threatened, baby,” Susie cooed, using his own endearment, just to see how he liked it. “Penelope could never do it like yoooooou.”
“Damn straight she can’t,” he murmured, not taking his eyes off the Wand of Doom, as Susie tended to think of it.
Cara stifled a giggle but Penelope did little to hide her grin. “Ready?”
Susie tried to hold on to the humor, but it slipped away as her mouth dried. The chanting in her mind returned, almost drowning out her ability to answer. Until Locke’s hold on her hand tightened. Not in assurance, either.
He was as scared as her. Only, despite his seeming confidence, he had no idea what to expect. He’d been trying to keep his fears to himself, as if she wouldn’t notice. As if she couldn’t feel it radiating from him in waves. This was his first time. His first child. He had every right to be nervous.
Following her instincts, she brought their joined hands to her lips, pressing a kiss onto his knuckles. For his sake more than her own, she prayed silently for the baby to be all right. She nodded for Penelope, then held her breath.
The wand moved into her slowly, pushing past her resistance, offering a shaky picture of mostly static until it finally stopped. Penelope kept her eyes on the screen, moving the angle of the wand until she found what she was searching for. A pool of darkness, where the small ovalish shape of Susie’s uterus formed a pocket. Susie’s heart skipped at what appeared to be complete emptiness, but then Penelope changed the angle once again. And suddenly there it was.
Their baby. Alive. Real.
Penelope fiddled, took some stills, then zoomed in. A little body, with tiny, waving arms and legs, the round head pointed down while the round belly took up almost as much space as the head.
Susie gasped while Locke’s hand began to shake.
“There she is,” he breathed, and she realized he’d crouched down to be next to her. Or maybe his knees had just given way. She wasn’t sure, couldn’t blame him if they did. She wrapped both her hands around his now, holding him to her closed lips, doing her best not to sob in relief. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks anyway, blurring her vision. So very, very alive. She wiped viciously at her wet lashes, hating that the tears got in the way. She’d waited so long for this moment—
Rough, gentle fingers stroked the moisture away, just before Locke pressed another hard kiss to the side of her face. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice rougher than she’d ever heard it. He kept his face buried against her hair. “For giving me this.”
“I haven’t given you anything yet.” That small being on the screen, though, made her wonder if this time—please God, this time—she might.
Locke picked up his head, his icy gaze determined and gleaming with the same moisture as her own. With faith she only wished she had. “You will.”
How could she not love him? And yet, though the emotions strangled her, she couldn’t get the words past the lump in her throat. She so did the next best thing. She kissed him, a brief touch of their lips, but she hoped it was enough.
Penelope cleared her throat lightly. “Well, as you can see, your baby is doing fine. In a good position, near the top of the fundus. That will likely change as the pregnancy progresses, but I don’t see anything to be concerned with. The cervix is clear and the placenta is implanted away from the Fallopian openings. Those would have been my main concerns. Now let’s inspect this little guy a little closer and make sure development is moving along as it should.”
They watched together, both riveted as Penelope took more measurements, explained more about the structures they were seeing. The string of tiny, glowing stars that formed her spine. The tiny fluttering light that was the baby’s heart. And when she turned on the sound…
A rapid, steady staccato filled the room. The beats so fast they were nearly on top of each other.
“That’s a good, strong heart,” Penelope told them approvingly.
“She gets it from her father,” Susie whispered, her voice strained to her own ears.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Penelope mused, turning off the sound before pulling the wand free. “Seems to me her mother might have a little to do with it as well.”
Susie was never so glad to have her doctor go about taking care of her equipment, needing the space to pull herself together. All the while, Locke was there, silently stroking her hair. Not demanding. Not taking over. Just waiting, comforting. The storm of emotion still seemed to fill the room, a nervous energy that had Susie feeling shaky and still afraid. Until she walked out of this room, until Penelope told her everything was completely as it should be, she couldn’t relax. She just…couldn’t.
“We’re going to give you a few minutes to get dressed—I’m leaving a few wet naps here for you to clean up with—and then I’ll be back to talk with you both. Okay?”
Susie nodded, lying back until both Penelope and Cara were gone. Locke handed her the foil wipes, then edged out from behind the table to fetch her clothes on the chair. He brought them back to her somberly. She dressed without a word, letting him help her keep her balance as she put her leggings back on. Was it because he knew she wasn’t ready for words yet? Because he sensed that their particular game was just asking too much of her right now? Or was it that he was beyond words as well? What was he thinking, this man who thought too much and said so little?
Penelope’s knock came quickly and she slipped back into the room with just the whisper of her coat against the door. “So, so far, so good,” she said, sitting in the chair facing them. “In fact, with your history, this is much better than I anticipated. What you have is a perfectly developing twelve-week-old fetus. There’s plenty of amniotic fluid and the uterus is about the right size. You mentioned some severe tiredness and morning sickness.”
Susie nodded.
“Well, that’s normal at this stage. The good news is that you’ve made it to the second trimester, which is when things settle down and your body adjusts to the pregnancy. The sickness should taper off, but it’ll help if you have something in your stomach most of the day. Don’t go crazy, just healthy snacks like veggies or cheese. Try not to go crazy with the sugars, either. You’ve lost a bit more weight than I normally like for my patients, but I expect that will change as you go along. Lots of water, three balanced meals a day and plenty of sleep. Pregnancy can take it out of you, so don’t feel bad about needing a nap. Just give in gracefully and you won’t feel so rundown.”
Locke’s chuckle at that wasn’t wasted on the doctor.
“What about…um…” Great. Now her face was catching fire. It took all her control not to cover her flaming cheeks with her hands.
Penelope, thank God, could add two and two on her own. “Sex shouldn’t be a problem. I wouldn’t go for any marathons or anything, but there doesn’t seem any reason to abstain. Basically, as long as it’s comfortable, feel free. But,” she added, making sure to pin them both with a stern stare, “if there is any pain, or any bleeding occurs for any reason at all, you’re to call me. I don’t care if it’s the middle of the night. As healthy as everything appears, this is still an at-risk pregnancy simply because of your history. Keep your stress levels low, don’t push yourself too hard physically. Light exercise is fine, just be reasonable.” Her smile now was wide and happy. “It’s okay to be excited. You’re off to a great start.”
“So…” Susie risked a glance over at Locke. “In your medical opinion…”
Penelope waited, though she seemed to know this was the hardest question for Susie to ask.
“There’s a real chance this baby could survive?”
Compassion filled the doctor’s face. She rose to her feet, walking over to put a hand on each of Susie’s shoulders. “Susie, I’m telling you as a doctor and as a mother myself. There’s every hope in the world for this baby. She can make it, we just have to do our best to take care of her so she can get here.”
Susie slid her gaze to Locke, wanting to cry again at the determination burning in his even stare.
He won’t fail you.
But as clearly as she knew Penelope was telling her the truth, she also knew the specter of Malcolm hovered in the distance. A threat she couldn’t afford to forget. He could ruin everything. If he came, she’d have to run. She’d have to leave all of this behind or see it destroyed. Her happiness, her child, her love. And if he didn’t come? How long before she destroyed it all on her own?
How long until she failed him?
Locke took her hand, held it as if it were her heart, and led her from the room.
Chapter Eight
Locke’s house was too damn big. It wasn’t even the fact that she knew it to be an eight-bedroom Victorian behemoth. That didn’t even count the studio apartment over the garage Locke used as his carpentry workshop. A former rowing champion, according to his sister, Locke had turned his love of the sport and his father’s carpentry skills into a different kind of career. “The Boathouse”, as the siblings all called it, was strictly off-limits to everyone. It was where he made the precision watercrafts that had kept his family supported all these years. More important, it was his sanctuary. The one place in the world that was his and his alone to escape the craziness of his wild family.
She’d always found it ironic that his place of peace was full of sharp instruments and power tools, and no one else thought that might be a bit like pissing off a bull and then sending him out to get his horns sharpened.
No, what made the house too big was the scope of the rooms themselves.
“I think I just figured out what it feels like to be Alice in Wonderland.” She stared in awe at the huge couch in the middle of his massive living room while he locked the door behind them.
Despite her long friendship with Amanda, she’d never actually come into the Jackman home. Coming directly into Locke’s personal space would have been too dangerous to her control. A fact proven by that fateful trip to his cabin when he and Amanda had that bad falling out. Ten minutes alone with him and she’d already been in his arms, peeling his shirt off as fast as she possibly could.
The room was homey, no doubt about it, with the built-in bookshelves on either side of the man-cave-sized TV, but it was the giant sectional couch made out of some kind of suede material her fingers itched to touch that really sealed the deal. This was the land of giants. Lots and lots of giants.
A beige throw blanket draped the back of one end, the wide chaise and oversized pillows looking well used and already calling her name. Oh yeah, she could fit her entire body on one pillow and probably sleep the night away in comfort. For a whole second, she kicked herself for not letting Locke drag her here sooner.
Th
at chaise section made her spine whimper in anticipation of sweet relief, fantasies of never sleeping on her iron bed at home ever again dancing like sugar plums in her head. A short dance, of course, because getting that thing out of this living room would probably require a crane. But a dance nonetheless, which was so not a good sign if she wanted to go back to her tiny apartment when the weekend ended.
Okay, that thought felt mildly ungrateful. That apartment was her refuge. Her bolt-hole. It was small, but it was cozy. Her space and hers alone. She had been able to sleep there, which said a lot for the place. She hadn’t been afraid someone would come into her room in the night. And when Locke was with her there, he was there by her choice. Her invitation, because she knew if she ever actually meant to throw him out he would have gone. Not far—Locke wouldn’t stop being Locke, after all—but far enough.
And oh, the nights he’d stayed… If she weren’t already hyperaware of his big body behind her, knowing she could finally have all of him again, the memories of those nights would have sent her hormones jangling.
How many times had he somehow managed to peel her nightgown’s gathered neckline down below her aching breasts because they “needed some fresh air”? How often had he “convinced” her he slept better with her leg draped over his hip, giving his fingertips room to wander? And when she’d wake him in the mornings, her hand a tight fist around his shaft, her mouth already sliding down over the round head of his cock, the music of his groans setting the tempo for her strokes?
It had all been mere foreplay for this moment.
Keys clinked onto a table just behind her, knocking her from those particularly steamy memories. But not quite the heat of them. Because here she was, in his space and so very aware of it. Of him, only a few feet behind her. Of why they were here in the middle of the day, without a single interruption in sight. She knew why Locke had driven them here directly, not even stopping at her apartment for her to get anything. The tension between them all these months was at the snapping point. The whole ride here, she’d been torn between her relief about the baby and her growing anticipation of what was to come.