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

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The Doctor’s Claim (Billionaire's Passion #1) Page 5

by Alizeh Valentine


  And then that gorgeous, sweet, sexy woman kicked me out.

  “Sorry,” Chloe said apologetically, handing me my pants just when I was about to tumble her into bed once more.

  I froze in confusion and she laughed, leaning in to steal a quick kiss. “Don’t look like that.” She rested her forehead against mine, beautiful eyes twinkling. “But my sisters will only give us so much leeway before they decide they’re entitled to emerge from their rooms for breakfast …”

  Chuckling, I held up my hands in surrender, even though they wanted to reach for her bare body, still deliciously warm and damp from the shower. “Okay, okay. I know when I’m not wanted.”

  Reaching for her own clothes, Chloe shot me a hungry look that almost undid me right then and there. “Oh, you’re wanted. And if we have to get a hotel next time so you don’t have to leave, we will.”

  Then she smiled and handed me a phone to call a cab, but it was fine because she’d said next time.

  My parents were still asleep when I slipped into the house, but David was fresh from a workout in the small gym in the basement. He saluted me with a glass of something green and unpleasant-looking.

  "You look like you had a good night."

  "I did," I said with a smile. I had no intention of sharing any details with him, but I didn't see the harm in agreeing.

  "That's one of the Becker girls, isn't it? Mother was talking about her last night. Someone mentioned that they were back in town."

  There was nothing intrinsically wrong with my brother's words, but something about his tone made me scowl.

  "Yes, she is. They're here to decide on what they want to do with their grandmother's house."

  David chuckled, and it occurred to me how very far apart we were. He was almost ten years younger than me, and for a good chunk of the time he was growing up, I was in medical school.

  "White Pines girls are great," he said. "Townie girls. They think going down to Madison is like being taken to Paris, they don't mind slumming it in parked cars, and they think that if you get them dinner at that greasy burger place on Shaw that you're really into them. Good for a cheap night out."

  I stared at him for a moment, wondering when my father’s voice had suddenly started coming out of David’s mouth.

  "Are you serious?" I asked, and he laughed.

  "Hey, I love them," he said. "I have ever since I stopped worrying about cooties. White Pines occasionally throws a looker, and it sounds like from how mad Mom is that you got a pretty one. Works for me, I like Esme just fine."

  He threw a quick salute at me before heading for the shower. He had a date with Esme that day and he needed to look his best, but suddenly I thought that I would much prefer him with a black eye or maybe a split lip.

  He's just joking, I told myself. David's barely more than a kid, and he says all sorts of dumb shit. It was a cruel thing to say, and I wasn't used to my brother being cruel.

  Or maybe he was and you just never noticed...

  I stripped in my bedroom and when I saw the small red marks that her nails had left behind, I smiled, touching them a little, and the tension slipped away just like that. Sex with Chloe was extraordinary, but what was even more amazing was that I wanted way more than that with her. The way I wanted … everything.

  As I was changing into clean clothes, my phone buzzed. I glanced at it, hoping it was Chloe. Weirdly, it was David.

  “Why is my brother texting me when we’re in the same house?” I said to no one in particular, reading the message.

  Esme’s hot, right? I’m not slumming?

  The realization that my brother really was the jerk he appeared to be made me faintly sick.

  She’s gorgeous. I answered. And you’re an ass.

  Really? I’m not too good for her?

  Man, she is way too good for you, I texted back wearily. When did you mutate, Dave?

  So you don’t see Chloe as slumming?

  I was so livid that I hit send before my thumbs finished tripping over themselves. Unlike your feelings toward Esme, I’m too good for her.

  Told you …

  That’s not what I meant! I’m not too good for her. Chloe is amazing. And if Esme is as smart as I remember her being, she’ll run screaming from you.

  Esme’s mean. I like em that way.

  He stopped texting at that point and I was glad, because I was ready to track him down and break his face.

  After changing into clean clothes, I decided to borrow one of the cars in the garage, head to town, and look for a present for Chloe. It somehow seemed like the least I could do when my family was just so utterly clueless about how great she was.

  Before I could get very far, however, my mother buttonholed me in the den, smiling in a determined way that made me immediately wary.

  "It's so nice to have you home again," she said. "I don't know if I've told you that yet..."

  "Actually, no, you haven’t. You never do," I said wryly, but she bulldozed ahead as if I hadn't said anything.

  "And the holidays are just an amazing time for family, aren't they? It's a wonderful time to remember who's really important and to let what's not important fall to the wayside. It's so easy to get distracted during the year..."

  "Is there a point to this?" I asked, and she shot me an exasperated look.

  "I just wanted to make sure that you were fully aware of the holiday party on Friday. You can be a sly one, Alex, and I don't want to get to the day and find out that you somehow forgot or that you slipped off to go stargazing or some nonsense. There are people attending who haven't seen you in years, and your father and I have had to make excuses for you for too long."

  She looked at me expectantly, and reluctantly I nodded. I had never been a huge fan of my family's stuffy holiday parties. They were full of people who liked nothing better than to show off how much better they were than the rest of the world, how much richer, better educated and intelligent they were. Medicine, at least trauma medicine, was a great equalizer, and it made these get-togethers increasingly grating. Still, I was in White Pines ostensibly to see my family …

  "Fine, I'll be there," I said with a sigh, and she nodded, apparently satisfied. As I turned to go, however, I saw her narrow her eyes at me, as if uncertain or frustrated with something I couldn't see. I didn't ask. She could bring it up, or we could ignore it.

  Downtown White Pines was unexpectedly busy for a weekday afternoon. It was a rustic spot, but there were plenty of small artisan shops, and people were obviously shopping for the holidays. I was just on my way to the town's only flower shop when my phone rang.

  "Hi! So, I don't know if it's okay to call you? We had sex… so at least we should be on texting terms, I think…”

  Chapter Seven

  Chloe

  Thank God, he chuckled at my rambling. I stretched out on my bed in my clean clothes, on the same sheets Alex and I had made love on, and grinned from ear to ear.

  "Well, given how we spent last night,” he drawled. “I would say that we're definitely on texting terms. Hell, I might even be so bold as to suggest we’re way past that."

  “I thought I probably shouldn’t call you,” I admitted, simply because telling Alex anything that came to mind felt oddly natural. “You know. Because.”

  “I don’t know,” he replied. “Why shouldn’t you call me? People on beyond-texting-terms should definitely call each other constantly.”

  The grin stretched further yet, making my face ache. “Because I don’t want to come across as needy.”

  He growled a little and I swear I damn near swooned.

  “I like you needy. You should always be needy for me, Chloe. Doesn’t matter if I’ve known you five minutes or seen you two seconds back. You needing me makes me close to insane.”

  I am in so much trouble, I thought to myself.

  “Alex, we’ve honestly only known each other two seconds—”

  He cut me off. “And those two seconds have meant more than two years I’ve spent
with previous women. I mean it, Chloe. It’s insane, I admit, but I’m all in. 100% in, baby. Are you?”

  I bolted upright in bed, hand resting over my stomach. “Yes. Yes, I am, Alex, my God, yes! But, the bab—”

  “Meet me at Malarky’s on Shaw,” he interrupted. “Soon as you can. I’ll be waiting. Don’t leave me out in the cold too long, honey.”

  I flew to Malarky’s. Honestly, I don’t think the cab’s tires even touched the road once. I shoved money at the cabbie and tumbled out, looking around until I spotted Alex perched on what was probably a frigid bench.

  He saw me at the exact same moment I saw him, and then that movie moment thing happened between us again when his eyes met mine.

  Alex walked up to me and held out a single red rose, framed by baby’s breath. “For you,” he said simply, then drew me into his arms and lowered his head for a long, slow kiss that turned my insides to mush.

  “Mmm,” I whispered into his lips when I finally caught my breath again, looking up into his dark gaze. “Alex … this is insanely fast, you realize …”

  “I do realize.” His thumb brushed the curve of my jaw lightly, touching me with tendrils of heat. “But what would be even more insane is not acknowledging that there’s something between us, Chloe.”

  “Uh, yeah,” I acknowledged incoherently when he kissed me again. “Okay, yeah. Mmm hmm … this is so not good,” I finally sighed, sinking into his tight embrace.

  Alex drew back with a frown. “Why not?”

  “Oh … probably a lot of reasons. But the first one is that I’m already losing my mind and pregnancy brain hasn’t even started yet.”

  He flashed a fast, wide grin that did illegal things to my heart rate. “I want to see you with pregnancy brain,” he said simply, tucking my hand in his and guiding me into the best burger joint in the county.

  He didn’t let go even as the waiter guided us to a booth. Nope. We sat down and Alex was still clasping my hand in his, so I went ahead and gave him my other one, even as the waiter took our orders. “Are we gonna share a spaghetti plate?” I inquired.

  “Better believe it. My middle name’s Tramp.” He winked and whatever part of my heart wasn’t already his fell hard and fast.

  “You remember Lady and the Tramp?” I demanded. “Nobody remembers that movie! Especially not guys!”

  Alex shrugged one broad shoulder. “Like I keep telling you. There’s something between us, Chloe. And if you think I’m going to let that slip away, you’re dead wrong, sweets.”

  “I’m liking these endearments,” I decided, pressing my palms to his and admiring how much larger his hands were than mine.

  “I like you,” he said softly, pressing my hand to his cheek. “Tell me the truth. Am I moving way too fast?”

  I laughed. “Yes. Completely.” As his face fell, I hastily added, “But I like it, Alex. I’m not a take-it-slow kind of girl. Never have been. You’re right. It’s really, really good between us. We just have a few issues that are kind of, well, between us.”

  He raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for an explanation, but I waved a menu at him. “Can we pick first? I’m starving. Someone gave me a workout this morning …”

  With a smirk, he allowed me to peruse the menu and we even managed to place orders for mega-size burgers, his rare, mine medium, his fries curly, mine sweet potato, before we returned to the topic at hand.

  “Sweet potato fries?” He shook his head sadly. “I’m disappointed, Chloe.”

  “Only because you’ve never had them here,” I retorted. “Try kissing me after I’ve had a bite of that cinnamon, sugary goodness and tell me you don’t love them.”

  “Challenge accepted,” he promised. “So … things between us? Besides your appalling choice in sides?”

  Some of my giddiness faded and I fidgeted with my napkin. “Well … you know …” I gestured vaguely at my midsection. “That’s one thing. You’re saying you’re all in, Alex, but I’m not going to look like this much longer.” I held up a hand before he could cut in again. “Far more importantly, in nine months it’s not going to be just me. You’re not the baby’s father. It’s not fair to ask you to stick around for parenthood, not before you even known enough to decide whether that’s something you might eventually be interested in.”

  He was silent for so long after that that my heart sank and I finally muttered, “Well? You could say something. Anything.”

  “I was waiting to see if you were finished, since I kept interrupting you. Are you done?”

  At least somewhat relieved, I nodded. “Yeah. Yeah. Please. Talk …”

  Chapter Eight

  The look of uncertainty on her beautiful face made my gut twist. I nudged aside the sodas so I could lean in closer, recapturing her hands in mine. “Chloe,” I said gently. “Look at me, honey.”

  Slowly, her face tilted back towards mine, finally meeting my gaze for the first time since she’d gone off on the baby tangent.

  “This isn’t what I expected,” I began, squeezing her fingers. “At all. Not gonna deny that. The woman of my dreams walking onto a Greyhound and demanding the seat beside me?”

  She laughed a little, blushing prettily.

  “But you did,” I went on. “And yeah, the baby is an unexpected factor, but the bottom line is, he or she is part of you. And I’m crazy about you, Chloe. So one way or another, I’ll learn to be a parent. I … want to be a parent,” I added, as the realization settled over me. “It never occurred to me to think about kids, but with you … it’s just totally natural. It fits,” I said quietly, meaning it with everything in me. “It’s like … I don’t even have to question it or wonder about it. You fit perfectly in my life, Chloe and so does—”

  “Alex!”

  Both our heads jerked toward the sound of my shouted name. My eyes widened as David jogged straight into Malarky’s, a place I was sure he’d never set in before in his life, and made a beeline for our booth.

  “David, what—”

  “Dad went into the hospital 40 minutes ago. I’ve been calling your phone for an age!”

  The ride to the hospital was a blur. David didn’t bother to tell me how he’d tracked me down. Chloe and I crammed into his stupid-small sports car, so tiny that she was practically in my lap, and we sped across town, somehow avoiding the usual traffic cops.

  Then we were on the small hospital’s doorstep and I was sprinting toward the ER. Probably David and Chloe were following, but I was solely focused on Dad. It shocked me how concerned I was, when my dad and I had no relationship whatsoever. But I guess your father’s your father, no matter what.

  “Leonard Reed,” I told the charge nurse. “He was just brought in?”

  With a hospital this small and a family as notorious as mine, there was never any question about Dad’s identity. The nurse nodded immediately, without even checking her records.

  “This way.” She led me down a yellow hallway, nowhere near as bleak as the walls that framed my usual workplace, and pulled back a curtain. To my immediate surprise, I spotted my father sitting up in bed, shirt off, his chest covered in electrodes, haranguing an intern.

  Seeing me, he broke off and cursed in apparent relief. “Alexander. Finally. Will you tell this idiot that I require a full …” he waved his hand uncertainly. “Whatever it is you call it.”

  “Workup,” the intern supplied, looking like he was trying not to roll his eyes. I was familiar with the feeling when it came to Dad. “I’ve been trying to explain to Mr. and Mrs. Reed—”

  “Your mother is so distraught that she’s had one of her episodes,” Dad informed me.

  “Mrs. Reed is being attended to,” the intern went on wearily. “As I was saying, we’ve ordered every recommended test…”

  While he talked, I took the clipboard from him and half listened while studying the various studies they’d ordered, along with the notes on my father’s condition when he was brought in.

  “They want me dead,” Dad howled with rage, a
s the intern wrapped up his narrative. “This town has been waiting for me to keel over for decades, in hopes of getting its hands on my money. Well, I’ll have you know—”

  “You’re not dying, Dad,” I said dryly. “What it looks like you may have is some heartburn, courtesy of your shitty diet and total lack of exercise. They’re doing all the necessary tests to rule out any dangers, but those tests don’t happen in five minutes. I’m sure they’ve told you that you’ll be kept overnight.”

  “I should be here for a week,” he snapped. “Heartburn! I knew that doctor training was an utter waste of my money.”

  “It wasn’t your money,” I reminded him. “I got a full ride. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should check on Mom …”

  I stepped past David and wondered briefly where Chloe had vanished to, but my whole focus was momentarily on dealing with my family’s madness. She would understand, I was sure. That was the kind of person I already knew she was.

  It wasn’t hard to find Mom. I could hear her histrionics halfway down the hall and just followed them until I walked into the room where she was hyperventilating, waving off every attempt by medical staff to calm her.

  “Don’t give me sedatives! I’ll die in my sleep!”

  It would be a miracle if the hospital didn’t poison both my parents’ IVs before the night was through. Shooting an apologetic look at the doctor who was just exiting the room, I joined my mother at her bedside.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Alex!” She grabbed my hand and dragged me close with a grip that no dying woman would ever be able to approximate. “This is my son. He’s a doctor. He’ll know how to care for me properly!”

  “I don’t have the slightest idea how to do that,” I said bluntly, worn out by the sheer insanity that was my family. “Mom, you know you get these spells. You work yourself up and then they subside just as quickly as they begin.”

  Indeed, the ‘spells’ dated back to the earliest days of my childhood. Whenever Mom was unhappy with my clothes, my choice of food, my grades, my date, even my athletic abilities, a swoon would conveniently occur.

 

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