by Caro Carson
No! I’m pregnant! The words roared through her mind, but she didn’t make a sound. On her knees, she hunched over, arms crossed over herself protectively, until Kendry MacDowell called her name, an eternity of minutes later.
* * *
Lana held her cafeteria spoon gingerly. The heels of her palms protested if she forgot about the morning’s chaos and grabbed something normally. She ate her yogurt and kicked back in Montgomery’s chair as she examined Kendry’s expertly applied gauze patches on her palms and knees.
They were almost amusing. The last time she’d had these exact same injuries, she’d been a child who’d fallen while roller-skating on a sidewalk. Then the best mother in the world had patched her up. This time, Kendry had done it with equal dexterity. Kendry was also a great mother, and she worked in the hospital’s day-care center, to boot.
It looked as though Lana was still on track to get a shot at mothering herself. She’d stopped in the ladies’ room at least a half dozen times since this morning, but there was no bleeding. Her back might bruise where she’d been kicked, but she was still pregnant.
Thus, she was eating this yogurt instead of skipping lunch, even if it stung her hands to do so. It was almost three in the afternoon, but finally, she’d given up on her conference call with a biotech firm and gone to get some food for herself. No one in the industry was willing to make West Central their research site right now, not after this morning’s debacle with the CEO. Who would begin a study with a hospital that might go bankrupt in a few days?
West Central could cease to exist. It didn’t seem possible. She’d practically lived here as a resident. She’d fallen in love here, been proposed to here and even miscarried here when she was chief resident. The hospital had served Austin for decades, after Braden’s father had worked so hard to get it started.
Poor Braden. His father’s portrait hung in the lobby. She’d seen him look at it a hundred times during their residency. His father’s legacy could disappear, ground into financial ruin by an unscrupulous CEO who had been imported from another hospital system in another state by an apathetic board.
Lana flipped her injured hand over and looked at her engagement ring. She and Braden had promised to protect what was important. West Central was important, but its protectors had done a lousy job.
Until now. Quinn had taken a vacancy on the board recently. They were meeting at this moment, and she doubted Quinn was being a docile junior board member. Kendry had told Lana this morning that Jamie was going to take over as chair of the emergency department this spring. And she, Lana Donnoli, was chairing research and development. She would change her last name to MacDowell this year. Could the new influx of MacDowells protect West Central, or was it all too little, too late?
Her phone rang. She grabbed it without thinking and felt the sting of her abraded palm.
“Ow. Hello?”
“Why didn’t you call me?” Braden’s anger was palpable, undiminished by time and space as it pinged from India to a satellite to her ear.
She did the math. “It’s two in the morning for you. You should be sleeping.”
“I just saw the news. On my phone. For God’s sake, what did you think I’d do when I saw that on my phone?”
“I know it’s hard because it was your dad’s hospital, but it’s not over. No one knows exactly how much money is missing. Now that the CEO is in custody, maybe they’ll find some of it. West Central hasn’t gone under yet.”
Braden sounded even more angry. “Do you think I give a damn about some white-collar criminal? I’m talking about you. How badly are you hurt?”
“You know about that?”
“I saw the photo. That was you, in the navy dress. You’re supposed to call me when you need me, damn it. Call me.”
“I don’t know what photo you’re talking about.” Within moments, her internet search turned up scenes of the CEO’s apprehension. “These pictures are all very... Oh. I see it now.”
There she was, landing on her hand when she’d been pushed down the second time. She looked as though she was in midair, but she’d been rolling off the woman who’d dragged her down. It was a pretty spectacular action shot, probably a still from one of the TV cameras. Braden must have thought the worst.
“Honey, it wasn’t that bad.”
Except for the part where I got kicked and I was scared it would cause a miscarriage and Kendry had to calm me down and I had to swear her to secrecy after freaking out and throwing up my crackers. That part was bad.
“What did Jamie say?” Braden demanded.
“I didn’t go to see him. I just skinned my knees and my hands a bit.” She tried to keep it light, knowing Braden’s short, impatient tone came from worry.
“Damn it, Lana. From now on, when I’m not there, you go see Jamie. Period.”
The period almost made her lose her temper. She didn’t need to be given orders. “Don’t you think it’s overkill to have the head of emergency look at some skinned knees?”
“No. You see Jamie, and then you call me.”
“You’re in India. Why would I call when there is nothing you can do?”
“Because I’m your fiancé.” He practically roared the words at her.
She understood, to a point, but it was time they got a few things straight. “You’re my fiancé, and you love me. I know that, Braden, I really do. But if I’d called to tell you that West Central might go bankrupt and I got trampled, what could you have done about it? Nothing, because you’re not here. I love you, too, you know. I’m not going to call and dump problems on your shoulders that will weigh you down. If you are in town, and I think you can help, I’ll let you know.”
“Otherwise, I’m not part of your life.”
“Otherwise, you’ll have to trust me to handle things by myself when you aren’t here. This is our reality.”
And that, she realized, was the bottom line. There was no escaping reality. They loved one another, but they were going to be apart very often. She’d have to deal with it, because there would be no other man for her, ever. Braden was her one and only.
“I’m a pretty capable person, Braden. We’ll get used to it.”
“When you’re trampled by a mob, I want to know.”
“Fair enough. But I wouldn’t say this was a mob. It was more of a small crowd.”
Silence.
Lana waited, but Braden didn’t play their game. Maybe he was tired; it was two in the morning in his part of the world. “That was a joke, honey. Is it small, or is it a crowd? You can’t have both.”
“No, you can’t. Sometimes you have to choose.”
* * *
The next morning, a few TV cameras were still stationed outside the hospital’s main doors. Lana decided to enter through the emergency room, feeling a little silly for being so cautious. Jamie kissed her cheek when she passed him, making her smile. She would always miss Braden when he was out of town, but Jamie reminded her that she would always have family here.
She channeled her new attitude into a productive morning. She was going to be married to Braden, she was going to have a baby, and she was going to do her part to help West Central. Ergo, she cruised a few wedding websites, she contacted a woman who’d been in her residency program who was also pregnant, and she solidified West Central’s current studies with each of their respective sponsors.
She even remembered when it was time to eat lunch.
“I’m going out for lunch,” Myrna announced, standing up and gathering her purse. “Can I bring you anything, Dr. Donnoli?”
“No, I’m all set.” She’d packed a healthy brown-bag lunch. By working through lunch, she’d be able to leave on time for once. She’d go home, eat a decent dinner and put her feet up. Braden usually called her around eight, and she planned to take his call from the comfort of her sofa. It was a baby step for a workaholic, but she felt as if it was a step in the right direction.
Myrna shut the door as she left. Moments later, she rushed back in.<
br />
Lana looked up from her three-ring binder. “Did you forget something?”
“Flowers!”
Myrna triumphantly placed a planter on Lana’s desk.
“Texas bluebonnets,” Lana whispered. They were securely blooming in rich soil, ready to be transplanted in better weather. She hadn’t known anyone could buy blooming bluebonnets in March.
“Let me find out the meaning of bluebonnets for you,” Myrna said.
“I know what these mean.” She didn’t need to look at the card. The bluebonnets, the symbol of Texas, could only have been a gift from Braden. They meant he missed her. He wanted to be in Texas, with her. Lana felt teary, but she didn’t blame hormones. It was just plain old love.
“If you already know about the flowers, then I’ll be going. You have a nice lunch hour.”
“Thank you, Myrna.”
A deep, masculine voice echoed hers. “Thank you, Myrna.”
“Braden,” Lana gasped. Then she was out of her chair, flying across the room to tackle him as he was closing her office door. She murmured his name between kisses of disbelief, over and over, until their kisses lengthened, deepened, and once more, words were senseless. This was Braden. This was her heart, her other half, her love.
“Lock the door,” she said, reaching for his belt buckle. He was in a business suit. She hadn’t tried to undo this type of sleek belt before, and she wasn’t taking any chances. She used two hands.
“Lana.”
“I’m finally going to appreciate that ridiculously oversized desk chair.”
“Darlin’, I’m fixing to address the board again in a few minutes. What are you doing later tonight?”
“Ooh, the Texas drawl is back. You really know how to make a girl melt.” She let go of his belt, but she still slid both arms around his waist and held him close.
He grinned, but he shook the cuff of his suit jacket back to check his watch. As she’d been doing for the past two weeks, Lana automatically thought about time zones and travel.
She did the math. “How did you get here so fast? We were just talking yesterday at three. It’s barely noon.”
Braden kissed each corner of her mouth, then began tucking her hair behind her ear. He looked very serious. “I ordered that plane toward home within two seconds of seeing that photo.”
“Oh, Braden.” It was a little overwhelming, to be the center of his world once more.
“I was already in the air when I called you. It took a while for me to get past the fact that you were being hurt to read the headline that went with the photo.”
“I’ve got some inside info on why the CEO was arrested. Do you remember that Dr. Montgomery’s laptop had turned up missing?”
“Did it turn up, or was it missing? It can’t be both.”
“Very funny. It was missing. Montgomery had taken it with him, because he’d stored all his evidence against the CEO in it. He blew the whistle. That laptop has turned up at the FBI.”
“I always liked Montgomery.”
“Me, too. I’m still not happy that he left this department in debt, but he was trying to help your mom with those studies, and he did something about that CEO when the board wouldn’t, so I can’t be mad at him. Much.”
She let go of Braden’s waist only to grab his lapels and pull him closer. “Since you traveled halfway around the world to check on me and my skinned knees, maybe we should...” Braden’s earlier words clicked into place. “Wait a minute.”
“Maybe we should wait a minute?”
“Did you say you have to address the board? Again? Could you explain that, please?”
“On the plane, after I hung up with you, I started calling the members of the board, one by one. They were waiting for me when I landed. We talked. They’re taking a vote right now, but it’s only a formality.”
“They’re voting on what?” Lana was jumping to conclusions with lightning speed, but she wanted to hear Braden say it to make it all real.
Braden kissed her again. “Sometimes the solution to a complicated situation is simple. I want to live with you seven days a week, three hundred sixty-five days a year. I need to be here. West Central needs a new CEO. It’s very simple.”
“There’s not going to be anything simple about taking over as CEO. As someone once said to me, you’re starting out in a hole you didn’t dig. A very big hole.” Still holding his lapels, she gave him a gentle shake. “I’m worried about you. This is a huge task.”
He raised his brow. “I’m very good at un-complicating things. Calculated risks are my specialty. I’ve run some preliminary numbers. I think West Central can make it.”
She reached up to smooth his brow. “Well, then, good luck with your patient, Dr. MacDowell. If anyone can save West Central, you can. You are terribly overqualified, and I hope the board realizes it.”
“The compensation package has some priceless benefits. I’ll be your boss. If I tell you to call me, you’re going to have to call me.”
It was just the opening Lana needed. She struggled to maintain a straight face as she smoothed the lapels she’d been holding and took a step back. “I may need to turn in my notice, boss. I’ve been thinking about your comment that I’m not practicing medicine. Do you remember Marcy Lewiston, from our residency? She’s with a practice here in town. She’s expecting a baby, and she wants to cut her hours back. I’d be job-sharing with her, seeing patients two days a week.”
Braden scooped her up in a bear hug. “I think that’s terrific. You were meant to be in patient care, not stuck behind a desk.”
She couldn’t keep a straight face any longer as he put her back on her feet. “Marcy isn’t due until the fall, so I’ve got some time to get this department pointed in the right direction. I have to say that, all in all, it sounds—” she paused and winked “—awfully good.”
He jumped on her oxymoron immediately. “It can’t be awfully good. It has to be awful, or it has to be good.”
Lana laughed, a bubble of happiness that couldn’t be contained. “It’s like saying I’m a little bit pregnant.”
“No one is a little bit pregnant. You’re either pregnant or...you’re...”
Snug in his arms, she felt the small jolt when her meaning hit him.
“...not. Lana. Are you pregnant?”
She held up her thumb and forefinger an inch apart. “Just a little bit. Maybe four weeks or so?”
Braden pulled her with him as he collapsed against the office door. They kissed, surrounded by shamrocks, until a green paper clover came loose and fluttered down to catch in Lana’s hair.
“I think that means you are going to get very lucky after your board meeting,” Lana said.
Braden slowly drew the shamrock out of her hair. “I’m already the luckiest man in Texas. As long as I have you, I don’t need any other good-luck charms.”
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from ONCE UPON A VALENTINE by Allison Leigh.
Chapter One
December
She blamed the entire thing on the shirt.
His shirt, to be precise.
Everything would have been fine, if he’d just kept it on.
But no. He had to go be the gentleman. He’d known she was soaked through. And with no electricity thanks to the ice storm that had blanketed Seattle with hardly any warning, she also had been freezing.
So he’d given her a towel, threadbare as it was, to dry off as best she could.
And then he’d given her his shirt.
Really, that’s when all the trouble started.
That’s when she’d obviously lost every bit of common sense that she’d ever possessed.
What else could possibly explain the fact that she was now lying on a pile of cushions on the floor of Merrick & Sullivan Yachting with Paxton Merrick’s sinewy arm over her waist, his big palm cupping her breast as if he had every right to do so?
Shea Weatherby chewed the inside of her lip as she lay motionless in hopes that he
wouldn’t wake up.
It was morning. Sunlight was filling the room. The wind that had howled and screamed and driven her into his office in the first place in search of shelter when her car wouldn’t start was now silent. She couldn’t see out the windows without turning over, though, and that was something she didn’t want to do.
Because it would mean turning toward Pax too.
Bad enough she could feel the heat of his body burning down every inch of her backside. Because she’d obviously lost her head after the whole shirt-offering incident, she clearly couldn’t be trusted to look at his infernally attractive face or other...body parts.
She closed her eyes against the sunshine, wondering how on earth she’d be able to salvage some dignity here.
She’d known Pax for well over two years. Had been regularly turning down his flirtatious overtures for just as long. But all it took was one night, stuck together because her bank account couldn’t extend itself yet to replace her old junker of a car once and for all, and she’d tumbled like a house of cards.
He’d loaned her his shirt to wear when she’d been soaked. He’d wrapped his arms around her and kept her warm when the electricity had gone out because of the storm. And when, heaven help her, she’d tasted the brush of his lips...
She wasn’t even sure who’d kissed who first, and Shea was more than a little afraid it had been her.
She curled her fingers into the cushion and blocked off the thoughts. Tried to, at least. It was hard, when her body still felt sated and warm and—might as well just admit it—more relaxed than it had been in years.
And more satisfied than ever, period.
Again, she shushed the voice inside her head.
She knew she should be grateful that Pax had been here at the leasing office at all. He spent a lot more time at the company’s actual boat works location farther up the shore near the bridge than he did here, at the office that overlooked the marina where the sailboats they leased out were moored. If he hadn’t been here, she’d have been stuck sitting inside her car that refused to start and riding out the ice storm because she’d had no way of getting back inside Cornelia’s building next door once she’d let herself out. Shea had just started working for the woman a week ago and hadn’t wanted the responsibility of an office key when she’d been offered one. By the time the storm had struck yesterday afternoon, everyone else in the office had already left before the roads became impassable, leaving Shea to fend for herself.