“My mother would skin me alive if she knew I’d left you out on the street. Then your mother would step in to finish me off.”
She made an impatient noise.
“Fine,” she said. She was being ungracious, but couldn’t the man take a hint? She wanted—needed—to be alone.
Her high heels tapped briskly on the driveway as they walked past the main house to the door to her flat. She searched in her handbag for her house keys, fumbling them awkwardly as she pulled them free. They hit the ground with a metallic clink.
“Damn it.”
“I’ll get them,” Dom said.
She was already sinking to her knees.
“It’s all right.”
“Lucy. For God’s sake,” Dom said.
He knelt, too, and they groped around in the dark together. She found the ring of keys at the same time he did. She snatched her hand back when she felt the warmth of his fingers beneath hers.
There was a long, tense pause. Then Dom stood and held out his hand. Wordlessly she took it and let him help her to her feet.
“What’s going on, Lucy?” he asked quietly.
She pulled her hand from his grasp, but she could still feel his warmth on her skin.
Before she could think, the words were out her mouth.
“Do you want to kiss me?”
Her armpits and the back of her neck prickled with embarrassed heat, and she rushed into speech again, trying to explain her impulsive words.
“I mean, the other day at your place, when you asked me to taste the sauce. I got the feeling…It seemed to me that something…” She shook her head, unable to articulate her thoughts now that she’d blurted her stupidest suspicions.
She wished for a minor earthquake or some plummeting space station debris or even an escaped animal from the zoo—anything, to distract him and give her the opportunity to bolt inside her flat and barricade herself behind the door and never come out again.
“Yes,” he said after what felt like a long time.
She blinked.
“Yes?”
“Yes,” he said. “I wanted to kiss you the other day at lunch. And yes, I want to kiss you right now.”
For a moment the world was very, very quiet. She wanted to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. She wanted to pinch him to make sure he was fully compus mentis. Did he have any idea what he’d just said? How big a can of worms he’d just opened?
“Why?” she asked.
He laughed, the sound deep and low.
“For all the usual reasons. You want me to draw a picture?”
“This can’t be happening.”
“Why not?”
Because I’m carrying another man’s baby. Because I am so far from being available it’s not funny. Because this is nuts, absolutely insane and I can’t believe we’re even having this conversation.
“Because,” she said.
She wasn’t about to lay all her defects and liabilities out in front of him. Surely it was obvious why his admission was so shocking to her?
“Look, I know this is a difficult time for you,” he said. “That’s why I wasn’t going to say anything. But since you brought it up…I’ve always been attracted to you.”
“Really?” Her voice came out as a squeak of incredulity.
“Since we were kids. I used to watch you walk to church in that little blue skirt you used to wear…. Let’s just say I have fond memories. When I got back from Italy and learned you were single, I thought about asking you out. But I figured it wasn’t great timing.”
He didn’t need to gesture toward her stomach for her to understand what he meant.
“That blue skirt wasn’t that little,” she said vaguely, too overwhelmed by his words to make sense.
“My imagination was plenty big enough to compensate, believe me.”
She didn’t know what to think, how to feel. She hadn’t expected him to say yes. In her heart of hearts, she’d still believed she’d imagined his interest. And yet he was standing in front of her, telling her she hadn’t.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Maybe we should go inside,” he said.
“No.”
For some reason, going inside with him felt too scary right now.
“Okay. What do you want to do, then?” he asked.
“We’re business partners,” she said. “This is a really bad idea.”
“Having a conversation?”
“You liking me. You wanting to kiss me.”
“It doesn’t change anything.”
“Yeah, it does.”
He was silent for a beat. “I’m not putting any pressure on you, Lucy. Just being honest. I don’t expect anything from you.”
“How am I supposed to pretend it’s business as usual when every time I look at you I’m going to be thinking about this?” she asked. She could hear the panic in her own voice.
“I shouldn’t have said anything.”
She stared at him, frustration welling inside her.
“I don’t want this,” she whispered. She blinked rapidly, feeling overwhelmed on every level.
“Hey,” Dom said. He stepped closer and rested a hand on her shoulder.
“It’s okay, Lucy,” he said. “The last thing I want to do is make things tougher for you. Forget I said anything. We’ll pretend the last five minutes never happened.”
A single tear slipped down her cheek. He swore quietly.
“Don’t cry.”
His hand moved from her shoulder to cup her face. His thumb swept across her cheekbone, catching her tear. He felt so warm and strong. She could smell his aftershave intensely. She turned her head slightly, instinctively seeking more of the woody spiciness. Her lips grazed his palm. She froze and so did he.
For a long moment there was nothing but the heavy beat-beat of her blood in her ears.
“Lucy,” he said, his voice very deep. It was part warning, part declaration of intent.
She saw him lower his head. Knew she should step back or at least turn her head away, especially since she’d just told him she didn’t want this. But she didn’t do either of those two things. Instead, she lifted her face and closed her eyes and waited.
If she was honest with herself, she’d been waiting for this ever since he’d smiled at her that morning at the market after Rosie had awakened her to how attractive he was and she’d caught that flash of his hard belly. All these weeks she’d been waiting and wondering….
His lips were warm and firm yet gentle. He kissed her lightly, teasing first one corner of her mouth, then the other. His hand slid to the back of her neck, palming her nape and drawing her closer. His tongue traced the fullness of her lower lip and she shuddered. She opened to him and his tongue slid inside her mouth. He tasted of wine and coffee. Deep inside her, desire roared to life. Her hands curled around his arms. He felt so good, so real and strong.
It had been so long since anyone had kissed her, wanted her, needed her, and she’d wanted and needed in return. Not since Marcus left, nearly six months ago—
She stiffened and jerked her head back. What was she doing?
“Lucy,” he said as she took a step away from him.
“I can’t believe—”
A sudden, searing pain stabbed through her abdomen. She clutched her belly, her mouth open in a silent cry. Between her thighs, she felt a flooding warmth.
“No,” she whispered. “Please, no.”
She pressed her hand between her legs, dreading the worst. When she lifted her hand, something dark and wet shone in the dim light.
“You’re bleeding!” Dom said.
Pain gripped her again and she hunched forward, wrapping her arms around herself.
“Oh God,” she groaned.
Lost in a world of pain, she could hear Dom on the phone, speaking urgently.
“I need an ambulance for 56 Parkside Street, Northcote. She’s twenty weeks pregnant and she’s bleeding.”
“My baby
,” she said, her eyes closed tight. “My baby.”
Strong arms closed around her, bracing her.
“Hang in there, Lucy. They’re on their way.”
She leaned forward, pressing her face into the cool cotton of his shirt. She was too afraid to move, too afraid to breathe lest anything she did made things worse.
My baby.
“It’s going to be all right,” he said.
She knew he couldn’t possibly know that for sure, but she was endlessly grateful for the confidence and determination in his voice. In the distance, she head the wail of a siren.
“Ambulance,” she said unnecessarily.
Thank God. Thank God.
“They said they weren’t far away.”
Another cramp hit her and she gasped into Dom’s chest. His arms tightened around her.
She wasn’t supposed to be cramping or bleeding. Her baby was tiny, nowhere near close to being able to survive in the outside world.
This was wrong. All wrong.
CHAPTER SEVEN
DOM TURNED HIS PHONE over and over in his hands as he sat in the waiting area of the emergency department, his thoughts on Lucy and what might be happening up the corridor in the curtained cubicle they’d whisked her into the moment they’d arrived. As far as he knew, she’d had a problem-free pregnancy. She was fit, young, healthy. Surely that had to count for something?
“Damn.”
He stood and shoved his phone into his pocket. One minute she’d been warm and willing in his arms, then she’d pushed him away. Seconds after that she’d doubled up with pain. It was all inextricably bound together in his memory—the kiss, her rejection, her pain.
And now they were in hospital, and he could do nothing to help her.
“Mr. Bianco? Dominic Bianco?”
He spun toward the doorway. It was a middle-aged nurse with short steel-gray hair.
“Ms. Basso is asking for you,” she said.
His long stride ate up the corridor as he followed her to Lucy’s cubicle.
“Dom,” Lucy said when she saw him, reaching out a hand.
He took it and tried not to show how shocked he was at its icy coldness. She was terrified, he told himself. It was nothing more sinister than that.
They’d put her in a hospital gown, and it was folded back to expose her belly. Two black belts spanned her bump, and an electronic display beside the bed recorded the rapid beats of her baby’s heart.
“How are you doing?” he asked.
“They’ve given me something to stop the cramping,” she said. “The doctor wants to do an ultrasound to find out what’s going on.”
“Okay, fair enough.”
She squeezed his hand tightly and closed her eyes.
“I’m so scared,” she whispered. “Would you mind staying with me?”
He couldn’t help himself. For the second time that night he reached out to cup her face. She opened her eyes and stared at him.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he said.
“I want this baby,” she said. “I know it’s been tough and I’ve been scared, but I want this baby so much.”
“I know you do.” He cleared his throat. “I called Rosie. She’s on her way.”
“Oh. Good. Thank you. I didn’t even think…” She frowned. “God. Marcus. I should tell him what’s going on. He’d want to know.”
“Give me the number, I’ll take care of it for you.”
He punched the number into his phone and walked back to the waiting area to make the call, since cell phones were not allowed in the emergency department. The phone rang out and went to a machine. He left a brief message explaining where Lucy was and what was wrong, then snapped his phone shut.
She was being prepped for a portable ultrasound when he returned. She reached for his hand again as a guy in his late thirties wearing a white coat smoothed gel onto her belly.
“This is Dr. Mason,” Lucy explained.
Dom exchanged nods with the other man.
“You’ve had one of these before, right, Lucy?” Dr. Mason asked.
“Yes. At twelve weeks and then again a few weeks ago,” she said.
“Then you know how this works.”
“Yes.”
Dom held his breath as Dr. Mason pressed the wand firmly against her belly and began moving it back and forth. Beside the bed, a portable monitor threw up grainy black-and-white images from inside Lucy’s womb: a rounded shape, then something that looked like a leg, then a whirling, pumping round thing.
“Do you know the sex of your baby, Lucy?” Dr. Mason asked, his gaze fixed on the monitor.
“No. Is that important?” she asked earnestly.
The doctor smiled. “Not at all. I just don’t want to give anything away if you decided to wait.”
Lucy huffed out a little relieved laugh.
“Sorry. I thought you meant…” Her eyes widened as the import of what he’d said hit home. “My baby’s going to be all right?”
“From what I can see, everything looks normal with the fetus. And it’s pretty clear what’s causing the bleeding.”
The doctor moved the wand lower on Lucy’s belly. They all stared at the blurry images appearing on the monitor.
“What you’re looking at is your placenta. It’s very low in your womb, close to your cervix. That’s what caused your bleed tonight. It’s called a marginal placenta previa, and it’s not that uncommon a complication of pregnancy.”
Lucy’s hand tightened around Dom’s.
“But doesn’t the baby have to come out through the cervix?”
“In a natural birth, yes. If things don’t change, you’ll be looking at a caesarean delivery.”
“Oh. That means I won’t be able to do much for about eight weeks after the birth, right?”
Dom knew what she was worried about.
“Forget the business. I’ll cover everything,” he said.
Her gaze shifted to his face and her frown cleared.
“Right. I’m so used to worrying about everything on my own, I keep forgetting I don’t have to anymore,” she said.
“Well, get used to it. Whatever happens, we’ll work it out.”
Lucy bit her lip and nodded, and he squeezed her hand.
If she was his, he would never let her get that hunted look in her eyes again. He would ban it from their lives, no matter what it took.
“You may not necessarily need a caesarean. In many cases of previa, the placenta shifts farther up as the womb enlarges to accommodate the growing baby. If that happens, there’s no reason why you can’t have a natural birth,” the doctor explained.
“When will we know if that’s happened?” Lucy asked hopefully.
“We’ll get you in for more regular scans from now on. We should have some indication of how we’re going in about four weeks. The good news is, with marginal previa like yours, the placenta almost always shifts.”
“What about the bleeding? Does that mean tonight was a one-off and it won’t happen again?” Lucy asked.
Dr. Mason shook his head.
“We can’t guarantee that. Because of the precarious position of the placenta, previa mothers are more prone to bleeds than other women. We’ll keep you in overnight to make sure things have settled, and then you can go home. But you’ll have to be careful. No heavy lifting. Nothing too vigorous. No sex.”
He gave Dom a significant look.
“Oh, we’re not…Dom is my business partner,” Lucy explained.
Her cheeks were pink with embarrassment.
“Right. Well, important for you to know, just the same,” Dr. Mason said.
Dom avoided looking at Lucy, giving her a moment to compose herself. Hell, maybe he was giving himself a moment, too. Not many guys in their thirties were warned off sex before they’d even gotten to second base.
The doctor reached for a tissue to wipe the gel off Lucy’s belly.
She bit her lip again. Dom could feel her indecision.
“What?�
�� he asked.
“Did you have another question, Lucy?” Dr. Mason prompted.
“When I had my last scan, they said they couldn’t tell whether it was a boy or a girl because of the position the baby was in. I decided it was a sign that it was supposed to be a surprise.”
“But now you’ve changed your mind?” Dr. Mason asked.
“Maybe.” Lucy looked up at Dom. “What do you think? If it was your baby, would you want to know?”
The question hit him like a blow to the solar plexus.
If it was his baby…
The world would be a very different place indeed if that were the case.
For a moment he felt a tight, fierce ache in his chest. He would never stand beside his wife and have this discussion. Ever.
But Lucy didn’t know that.
“I’d want to know,” he said. His voice was low and thick with emotion. He cleared his throat. “I’d definitely want to know.”
She nodded. “I think I do, too.”
She turned back to the doctor with an expectant look. Dr. Mason smiled.
“You’re having a girl,” he said simply.
Lucy’s eyes filled with tears.
“A little girl!” she said.
“Get ready for the joys of the teen years,” the doctor said dryly as a nurse began to pack away the ultrasound machine. “I’ll check in with you later, Lucy.”
“Thank you,” Lucy said, distracted by the news.
Dr. Mason and the nurse left the cubicle and Lucy spread her hands over her stomach. Her eyes were liquid with unshed tears as she looked up at Dom.
“I’m going to have a daughter,” she said.
He couldn’t speak. He looked into her face, filled with hope and excitement, and the pain was back in his chest.
If you were mine…
If this baby were mine…
He forced a smile.
“Yep. Hope you like pink,” he said.
She laughed. “I hate pink! But I’ll get used to it.”
A nurse stepped through the curtain.
“Excuse me. We need a moment with Ms. Basso,” she said. She was holding a washcloth and a bowl of water.
“I’ll wait outside,” he said.
He sank into a chair in the waiting room and tried to pull himself together. He wasn’t the kind of man who relished being helpless, especially when someone he cared about was in pain.
A Natural Father Page 10