The Doctor’s Claim (Billionaire's Passion #1)

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The Doctor’s Claim (Billionaire's Passion #1) Page 2

by Alizeh Valentine


  I sighed, giving up any ideas of immediate vengeance and settled down instead against Chloe's sleeping form. She felt almost shockingly good against my side, and I reminded myself again that it was time to find another girlfriend. Maybe it was time for something a little different than the tall and elegant types I preferred.

  Chloe didn't wear any perfume. The way her head was burrowed right underneath my chin, I could smell her shampoo, something bright and fruity, and underneath that was her own scent, soft and uniquely hers. She smelled like sleep and soap and home, and I couldn't help drifting off myself. At some point, it became natural to throw my arm over her shoulders, gathering her close as I leaned back in my seat to sleep.

  I woke up to the bus drawing to a stop, and for a moment I thought we had slept all the way to White Pines. Instead, the driver announced a fifteen minute stop in Madison, and told us we were welcome to leave the bus as long as we were back in time. He apparently had no intention of keeping to the always-late creed. Damn.

  Chloe must have been exhausted because she barely stirred at all before turning back to the window. I was momentarily disappointed to feel her warmth draw away, but as her harasser brushed past me again, I decided that it was just as well. Not bothering to put on my coat, I followed him off the bus and to the small shelter where he proceeded to pull out a cigarette.

  He regarded me warily as I approached him, perhaps getting ready to defend himself with some kind of protestation that she hadn't minded all that much or even that he had been paying her a compliment. I had heard plenty of that kind of talk before; it was just as common at a hospital as it is elsewhere. There was no one at the shelter except for the two of us, everyone else choosing to run to the coffee shop across the street.

  “Hey man, your girl, she's really cute, you know?”

  The whine in his voice made my hackles rise, and I knew that I couldn't conceal the look of disgust that crossed my face.

  “Don't get back on the bus.”

  He stared at me as if he wasn't sure that I was speaking English.

  “What the hell, man...”

  “I mean it. Don't get back on the bus. Stay here. Pass some time. There will be another bus here in three or four hours that runs the same route. Pay the driver and get on that one.”

  He started to get angry, his brows beetling at me and puffing up like a toad.

  “Hey, you can't tell me what to fucking...”

  I shrugged, because I had figured that there was a better than average chance it would come to this. As he stepped forward, so did I, and my forearm slammed across his collarbones. I pushed him back off of his feet and slammed him into the Plexiglas wall of the shelter with nothing more than a grunt of effort. He yelped, but then my forearm rolled up to his throat, threatening to cut off his air supply. He stared at me, and I smiled mirthlessly.

  “I can threaten you with all sorts of things if you like,” I said mildly. “I could call the police, I could refer you to the bus driver, I suppose, I could simply take it upon myself to get your name and start making life difficult for you...”

  He looked supremely nervous at that, and I had the idea that he was wondering who I was and what I could actually do. It was less than what he thought, but his ignorance of the fact suited me just fine.

  “... Or you can just call ahead to let your people know that you're going to be late, and take the second bus. Tell them you missed a connection or something. Then you never have to think about this again, and it all ends here.”

  I released him to see what he would do, and after a moment where it looked as if he might have wanted to fight, he nodded, two quick jerks of the head.

  I nodded, because there was no need to humiliate him further, turned, and walked back to the bus. From the seat, I watched, and he never left the shelter, not even when the bus driver announced we were leaving.

  Good riddance.

  When the bus pulled away from the Madison stop, Chloe stirred a little, stretching out and looking around. Her bleary eyes told me that she would have far rather stayed asleep, and she gazed at me in some slight confusion, something that I found strangely endearing. I had to stop myself from reaching out to tuck a strand of dark hair behind her ear.

  “What's going on?” she asked. “Are we in White Pines already?”

  “No, we have another few hours yet. Go back to sleep.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  With nothing more than that, she snuggled up against me again, and this time, I didn't hesitate to wrap my arm around her. I told myself that there was nothing wrong with it, that people often leaned against each other on long bus rides, and that after all, she had started it.

  I must have dozed off myself because suddenly my eyes opened, it was three hours later, and Chloe was stirring under my arm.

  “Mm, feels nice,” she murmured, but before she could enjoy herself too much, she came awake with a start, sitting up and drawing away. I was amused to see her cheek imprinted with the pattern of my sweater as she looked around in confusion.

  “I am so, so sorry,” she said contritely. “I didn't mean to sleep all over you like that...”

  “No problem at all,” I responded, stretching a little. “I got some sleep as well. No harm done.”

  She looked relieved at that and her shy smile zinged its way through me every bit as strong as the previous electric shock.

  “Thank you for not minding and for everything, really. That bus trip could have been a lot nastier if you hadn't been here and so willing to give up the fun of sitting alone.”

  That was when we rolled into the small bus station at White Pines, and I realized that I might not be having much fun for a while. I put that out of my mind in favor of helping Chloe get put back together, and as we trundled to the front of the bus, she glanced behind her.

  “Whatever happened to that guy who was bugging me?” she asked in confusion. I could have sworn he was sitting right back there.

  “Lot of stops between here and northern Illinois,” I responded with complete honesty. “He probably just got off while we were sleeping.”

  Chapter Three

  Chloe

  I couldn't quite believe that I had managed to sleep all the way north from Illinois. Usually when I slept in the car, I ended up tossing and turning restlessly. Now, though, I felt as if I had finally caught up on some of the sleep I had lost last night and in the previous few weeks after learning about my pregnancy.

  As we disembarked, I turned to Alex.

  “Thank you again,” I said. “I really mean it. And... I don't mean to be strange or forward or anything else that might offend your old man sensibilities...”

  He raised an eyebrow at me.

  “I'm thirty,” he said.

  “Well, you read a paper like an old man, anyway, but yeah, if it doesn't freak you out, maybe we could get together while I'm in town? I'm planning to be here for around a month or so.”

  He smiled at that and just as he was opening his mouth to reply, there was a flurry of motion off to one side.

  “Oh Alex, there you are, I swear, we've been waiting forever and a day. I knew that you shouldn't have taken the bus...”

  Instinctively, I stepped aside to make way for the woman in an actual fur coat to fly by me, throwing herself into Alex with a frenzy that reminded me of a feeding shark. She was tall, and Alex had her sandy hair. I realized I recognized her, and then with a start, I understood why.

  She was Rina Reed, which meant that Alex was that Alexander Reed, part of one of the illustrious founding families of White Pines. Their money lay in the timber of the northern forests, and they were notoriously proud.

  Alex looked as startled to see her as I was, and his expression quickly changed to something slightly mask-like and cool. Kind of like the way he’d looked when I first got on the bus, before he thawed.

  “Mother, it's good to see you,” he said with a slight trace of irony.

  I might have kept on watching like a rude hick watching a
prince, but then someone tapped me on the shoulder from behind. I turned to see two very familiar faces waiting behind me. Mara was tall with black hair like mine, but she wore it long and her eyes snapped with green fire. Shannon, born between us, looked as soft and warm as ever, her brown hair tucked under a bobble hat and her gray eyes warm.

  It was Shannon that hugged me first, and for more than one reason, I fell into her arms, holding her tight. Our parents always said that she was the sweetest of the three of us, and after Mama and Dad died a few years ago, she was the one who made all the arrangements and kept us going with food and water when I might have collapsed and Mara would have worked herself into splinters.

  “Oh, it's so good to see you, Chloe,” she said, and I nodded against an unexpected lump in my throat. It had been almost two years since I had seen either of my sisters.

  “If you've got that out of the way, I'm in a towaway zone,” Mara said briskly. “Is that all you brought with you?”

  Mara was dressed in a long black coat, and she looked as sharp as a knife. Just about everyone was at least a little intimidated by my big sister. She could be a little temperamental, but she'd come to my defense far too many times in the past for me to be too put off.

  “Yeah, let's get going,” I said with a grin. “Wouldn't want you to get a ticket on that shiny car of yours. I mean, I’m assuming it’s still shiny.”

  Mara rolled her eyes at the tease. She was OCD about cleanliness in general, but when it came to her car—there better not be so much as a fingerprint on the hood or look out world! Didn’t matter how many miles. Her wheels always shone.

  As we walked to the small parking lot, I glanced behind me one last time to see Alex being hurried away by his mother and a younger man I figured must be his brother. We'd only spent a few hours together, but there was something in me that wrenched at the idea of being separated from him. It was idiotic, and I followed my sisters to Mara's gleaming car, which fortunately had not gotten a ticket. That would’ve been a great welcome back. Shannon gave me the front automatically because I always got carsick, and as she pulled out of the lot, Mara glared at the sky.

  “It keeps threatening to snow, but refusing to,” she said. “It needs to make up its mind...”

  “Have you guys been back long?” I asked, and then I hesitated. “Have you been... to the place yet?”

  Shannon shook her head, leaning back in the seat. She had come from farther than I had, and she looked worn out as well.

  “I got in this morning, and Mara got in just an hour after I did. We've been grabbing some groceries to tide us over, talking with the lawyer...”

  “What Shannon means is that no, we haven't been into Grandma's house yet,” said Mara bluntly. “We wanted to wait for you. Do it all together.”

  She winced as if embarrassed to be caught in an obvious fib.

  “We wanted to put it off,” she said with a shrug. “Guess we can't any longer.”

  The drive to the little white house just four blocks away from the town center only took a few minutes, but we made the drive in silence. Of course it was Mara who led the way with her key in her hand, and she walked forward, unlocked the door after jimmying the rusted lock slightly, and flipped on the light automatically, like she’d done countless times.

  “I had them turned back on,” Mara explained automatically, before I could ask why the house had lights after being empty for so many years. “The water, too, since we’ll be staying here at least a few days.”

  We crept into the house like invaders or thieves. I set my bag on the floor and then picked it up again awkwardly. The place echoed a little. A lot of the old decorations and knickknacks that once made it Grandma's house had been removed ages ago, leaving only the furniture. The fridge was unplugged with the door hanging open, and there were faded spots on the walls where the family pictures once had pride of place.

  “I can't tell if it's better or worse that it looks nothing like what it used to look like,” said Mara.

  “It's different,” said Shannon gazing around us. “It won't be what it was again, but that's not a bad thing at all.”

  “Yeah, I'm not going to miss the little dolls that Grandma collected. Didn't her great niece once removed get those? Those were creepy.”

  Shannon looked slightly scandalized, but Mara laughed.

  “That's the spirit. We can't tiptoe around this place as if it was a shrine. Grandma's dead, and it's just a house now.”

  “Mara!” exclaimed Shannon, and Mara shook her head.

  “Come on, Shannon. Grandma died more than five years ago. We're lucky that folks have been taking things out even before it made its way through probate. Less things for us to dig through.”

  Shannon blinked hard, and I suddenly realized that she was on the verge of tears. She had been the closest to Grandma, even thought we had all spent Christmas up at the house.

  “That's just typical, Mara,” she snapped. “You probably just want to gut this place so that you can go back to Atlanta.”

  Mara reared back as if she had been slapped. In a way, she had. Shannon had always been the peacemaker, the one soothing my fears and Mara's temper. For her to attack was more than a little strange.

  "I'm trying to be sensible, Shannon," Mara said icily. "We're not here to spend Christmas together or to decorate a damn tree. We're here to look over the property, to decide what we want to do with it. This is a legal affair, not some kind of Christmas special."

  "God, you're so freaking cold," Shannon said, throwing up her hands. "You're technically the one in charge as far as the papers go, I guess we're just lucky you didn't sell it out from under us."

  "'Fucking,' Shannon, adults say fucking," said Mara, and I could tell that she was getting mean. God, she could get so mean sometimes, and suddenly I couldn't stand it any more. We’d squabbled and fought as much as any sisters did, but I couldn't take it while we were standing in Grandma's house, surrounded by old memories of when we had once been so happy together.

  "I'm pregnant!"

  It worked, or at least, Shannon and Mara turned to me with nearly identical expressions of shock and confusion. Mara looked as if I had sprouted wings and a tail, and a look of such longing passed over Shannon's face that I blinked.

  "Like, with a baby?" said Mara slowly.

  "Well, I hope it's not a puppy or a kitten?" I joked lamely.

  Shannon crossed the floor to give me a hug. "Oh, Chloe.” She pulled back to shake her head knowingly. “With Paul?"

  "Er, Paul's out of the picture," I said with a half-shrug. "He knows, but he doesn't... um, want to be a part of things?"

  Shannon made a concerned clucking noise, and Mara's eyes darkened.

  "Blood tests and a court order when the baby's born," she said. "He has to take responsibility..."

  "No!”

  The sharp tone to my voice surprised everyone, including me. Being a mother-to-be was apparently making me unusually defensive.

  "I don't want him involved,” I explained. “Not after he decided that it might be anyone's baby."

  Shannon and Mara made almost identical offended noises, and I nearly laughed at that.

  "I'm going to be okay. It'll be tight, but there's that little alcove in my apartment, perfect for a crib, the library gives maternity leave, and there's a really nice lady in the building who looks after kids. I have a plan."

  "There's more to taking care of a baby than..."

  Shannon cleared her throat pointedly, and Mara nodded.

  "All right. I think there's a decent crib up in the attic I can drive down for you, and when the time comes, I'll sign you up for a diaper service as a present. I did it for a co-worker at the magazine, and she liked it..."

  Mara trailed off, shaking her head, and when she looked at me, some of the prickliness and anger had drained out of her.

  "Shannon and I... we're going to be aunts," she said, and I grinned as my grouchy older sister grudgingly hugged me and patted my flat belly with su
rprising tenderness. Just like that, the tension between the three of us died away.

  All right, little one, well done, I thought. Six months from being born and you're already quite the little problem solver.

  Chapter Four

  Alex

  I was around twelve when I first realized that the people of White Pines called our family’s winter home ‘Dracula's castle,’ and heading up the long drive in Mother's Lamborghini reminded me of why. The place belonged to some several-times great grandfather who made all his money in lumber during the good times and whiskey during the bad, and it had more gables than any one residence should have. Three stories, eight bedrooms, more bathrooms, mullioned glass and a replica Victorian garden in the back; it was one of the most gorgeous houses around.

  Of course I hated it.

  Hate was a strong word, I supposed, but as we got closer, I started to feel the walls closing around me, even in the crisp and bright winter air. I had spent every winter in White Pines at this house until I turned eighteen and could finally beg off. This was my first year back, and it sounded like my mother was going to make the most of it

  "And of course there's dinner with the Gannfields, and tomorrow, I was thinking a luncheon down at the country club, really show everyone that you're back. Of course I hope you packed something nicer than those rags, you ought to let Lupe throw them out. God, there's never been any good shopping here, but maybe we can send to that place your father likes in Chicago to have something delivered. Nothing much, but a good suit, some nice shirts."

  I sighed, pulling my bag out of the car and stepping into the heated garage. David shot me an amused and sympathetic look. He had been home a little longer than I had been, but he'd never minded Mother as much.

  "It's nice to see you too, Mother," I said, planting a careful kiss on her professionally made-up face. She brushed it aside, leading us toward the house, still talking when Father came out to greet us on the front step. Everyone said Father and I look alike, and with every year that passed, that grew more true. We were similarly tall, though his blond hair was a shade or two paler than mine, and his eyes stared into mine as if looking for anything else that we could possibly have in common. He’d never found anything, not as far as I knew, anyway.

 

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