by Bonnie Pega
Another contraction and she pushed as Zac encouraged her. The nurse examined her again after a few minutes. “Whoa! You’re quite an efficient pusher. I need to call the doctor in. Don’t push until he gets here.”
“What do you mean, don’t push?” Libby cast a panicked glance at Zac. “I don’t think I can stop pushing. Oh, here comes another one. Zac—”
“It’s okay, baby. Lean your head back and blow out. Short puffs … short puffs. You can do it.… Now, take a deep cleansing breath.… See? That wasn’t so bad.”
Libby cast him a venomous look. “And just how many babies have you had recently? What do you know about it?”
“I know that you’re getting crotchety in your old age.”
“Who’s old? I am a mere babe in arms? … Oh, God, here it comes. I’ve got to push, Zac.”
“No. Now blow out. Come on. Blow out. Dammit, stop pushing, Libby! Stop pushing! Libby?… Libby!”
“Zac! What happened? Is everything all right? How’s Libby?” Deb came running over to where Zac sat in the lounge, staring out the window into the early morning sun.
He turned a bemused gaze on her. “She had the baby, Deb.”
“What’s wrong with the baby? Is it all right?”
He went on as if he hadn’t heard. “The doctor wasn’t even in the room. The nurse wasn’t there. It was just me and her and then out pops this little baby, right into my hands.” Zac looked up at Deb. “It’s a girl. A beautiful, bald-headed little girl. She looked at me with these big dark blue eyes and screamed bloody murder.”
“Is Libby all right?”
“She’s fine. She was amazing, really. I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman as strong and determined as she is. She kept her cool the whole time.” He shook his head. “She’s amazing,” he repeated.
“What’s she doing now?”
“I think she’s asleep.”
“How about you? Are you okay? You look a little frazzled to me.”
“Oh, no. I’m fine. I’m just fine.” He forced a smile. “I’m tired, though. I didn’t sleep at all, so I think I’ll go home.”
“You aren’t going to wait for Libby to wake up?”
Zac sighed. “I don’t think so. She’ll be too interested in the baby. She won’t even notice I’m gone.”
“She’ll notice,” murmured Deb, but she said it to the back of Zac’s rumpled shirt as he disappeared down the hall.
“Where’s Zac?” Libby smiled at Deb, then yawned.
“He was tired, so he went home.”
“Oh.” Libby tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice. “Have you seen little Cupcake yet?”
“I peeked in the nursery on the way in here. She’s a real doll.”
“Isn’t she? Zac was so wonderful. He was so patient, and he never left me for a minute. He was right there the whole time. He’s a terrific coach. A terrific man.”
Deb eyed her curiously. “Sounds like it.”
“He even rubbed my back—I had horrible back labor. And he walked with me up and down the halls forever, it seemed. I was about ready to chuck it in at one point, but he wouldn’t let me. He took my hands and breathed right along with me. Did I tell you he rubbed my back for me?”
“I think you did,” Deb murmured.
“He delivered my baby. Did you know that? The doctor took too long to get there, and she just wouldn’t wait to be born. So Zac delivered her.” Her face softened. “He cried when he held her, Deb. He tried to hide it, but I saw him.”
“Then what happened?”
“Then the doctor got there, cut the cord, and laid her on my chest. She made all these little baby noises and looked at me for the longest time without blinking. I could swear she really saw me, really knew who I was.”
Deb smiled and shook her head. “You know, Libby, I’ve known you since college, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this wound up before. Zac said even labor didn’t rattle you.”
“It didn’t, but it’s because Zac wouldn’t let me get rattled. Besides, I knew what to expect, and it really wasn’t all that bad. I just kept focusing on Zac and Cupcake.”
“Speaking of the baby, you’re not planning on enrolling her in kindergarten as Cupcake, are you?”
“No. I’m going to name her Victoria, after my grandmother.”
“How about a middle name?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
“I think Hannah said Zac’s middle name is Dane,” Deb said slyly.
Libby’s face lit up. “Dane. Victoria Dane Austen. That does have a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”
For the first time in ten years Zac took a day off.
“Not coming in? Not coming in?” his secretary repeated. “Are you in the hospital or something?”
“No, I’m fine. I’m just taking the day off. It’s allowed, you know. I’m the boss.”
“Well, yes, but—”
“I’ll be in tomorrow,” he said in dismissal, and hung up the phone. He sat on the sofa and watched his tropical fish swim around. He ought to go to bed, he mused. After all, he hadn’t slept at all the night before. Somehow, though, he didn’t think he’d sleep for the next week.
All he could see was the look on Libby’s face when they laid the baby on her chest. Even covered in perspiration, with tangled hair long since escaped from her braid, and mascara smudges beneath her eyes, she’d been the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
He remembered how she had fumbled with the top of her gown when she prepared to nurse the baby for the first time. Her cheeks had pinkened in embarrassment at the room full of people, but her gaze had locked with Zac’s as she guided the baby’s seeking mouth to the waiting nipple. Her eyes had widened in awe and her smile had glowed. She looked as if she’d been handed a miracle. Maybe she had. Zac had felt unaccustomed tears sting his eyes and couldn’t help but stand there and watch.
He yawned and leaned his head back on the sofa, remembering the way the baby had felt in his arms. Maybe it was a miracle. He yawned again and closed his eyes.
FOUR
“Why do I have to go to this reunion thing?” Zac asked the moment Hannah opened the door.
“Because you were my Lamaze coach.” She added, “And Libby’s.”
“Not by choice,” he muttered, already fastening the infant seat in the front of his car. He ignored the “and Libby” part just as he’d tried to ignore all thoughts of her the past six weeks. He’d done a good job of it too. During the day, at least.
At night, however, the minute he fell asleep she came waltzing uninvited into his head with her swath of satiny hair, her sinful legs, lush breasts, and tempting mouth. But every time he reached out for her, all he got was a baby that stared at him with unblinking blue eyes, then wailed.
“Look, I’ll come back and pick you and Nicky up in a couple of hours, okay?”
“Nothing doing, sugar. You’re going in.”
“Wait,” he said as Hannah opened the car door and got out. “The babies will probably all scream when they see me. You know kids don’t like me.”
“That’s a bunch of nonsense. I don’t know why you keep insisting kids don’t like you. If they cry, it’s because they sense you’re scared to death of them.”
“With good reason,” Zac muttered.
“Don’t be silly,” Hannah again admonished him as she unfastened the baby from the seat and hoisted him into her arms. “It’ll be interesting to see what everyone else had, don’t you think?”
Zac sighed, rubbed the back of his neck, and followed Hannah to the door of Mabel’s house. Inside, the first thing he did was look for Libby. When he didn’t see her, he wasn’t sure if he was happy or sorry.
“Here’s the coach of the year.” Mabel came over. “You should win an award for service above and beyond the call of coaching.” She hoisted the baby she was holding higher up on her shoulder and turned her attention to Hannah and Nicky.
Libby saw Zac the minute he walked in the door. She stood in
the far corner, next to a large ficus tree, and peered through the foliage. She wasn’t trying to hide from Zac, she told herself.
She wasn’t. She was just trying to give him what he wanted—and what he wanted apparently was as little contact with her as possible.
That had been made abundantly clear in the weeks since Victoria’s birth. He’d sent two dozen miniature pink roses to the hospital the day after she delivered, with a terse congratulatory note. And that was the last she’d seen of him.
She thought she’d seen him sitting in his red sports car across the street from her house that same afternoon Deb brought her home from the hospital. But by the time she put the baby down in her new cradle and went back to the front door, the car was gone.
He hadn’t called, not even when she’d left a message with his secretary. He did send a teddy bear with a pink satin bow around its neck for the baby’s one week birthday. At least Libby assumed it was from Zac, since there was no card with it and all her other friends denied sending it.
Libby was surprised Hannah had persuaded Zac to come to the Lamaze class reunion. He had the same uncomfortable expression on his face that he’d had the first time she’d seen him—definitely a fight-or-flee look. She couldn’t stand behind the plant all night, she thought, and ran her hands down the front of her rose-pink sundress.
Pasting a bright smile on her face, she stepped into plain view.
Zac saw her immediately. She couldn’t tell how he felt about seeing her—his face was expressionless. But he did make his way over to her.
“How are you?”
“I’m just fine,” she murmured politely. “And you?”
“Oh, fine. How’s, uh, the baby?”
“Victoria’s beautiful.”
“Yeah. Hannah said you’d named her Victoria.”
“Victoria Dane.”
Zac looked stunned. “Dane?”
“Hannah didn’t tell you?”
“No, I didn’t,” Hannah said, coming up behind Zac. “I thought you should be the one to tell him he has an almost namesake.”
“Why?” Zac asked, paying no attention to Hannah.
“I owed you,” Libby murmured. “And you never gave me a chance to thank you.”
Zac could feel his cheeks grow warm at her words. “I—I just did what—what any other man would have done in the same circumstances.” Damn! What was there about this woman that made him feel as tongue-tied as a teenager on his first date?
“No, I don’t think so. What you did only a very special man could have done. I don’t know how I can ever thank you. I never would have made it through labor without you there.”
Zac felt like running his finger around his collar as he stared into her beautiful blue eyes. For a brief moment he found himself wondering if her eyes got lighter when she made love—as light as the silver-blue sparkles in them—or if they darkened to almost black. Then he shook the thought away, shoved his hands into his pockets, and shrugged. “No thanks needed.”
“Yes, there are. You were so supportive, so patient. You seemed to know exactly what I needed at any given moment.”
“A regular paragon of virtue, right?” he scoffed lightly.
She smiled, that same heart-hugging smile, and said, “Would you believe I’m nominating you for sainthood next week?” She eyed him curiously. “You don’t like to be complimented, do you?”
“Hey, I like it as well as the next guy, it’s just that—” He broke off, not sure exactly what it was he wanted to say. He did like compliments, but somehow, coming from her, they made him uncomfortable. As far as compliments went, though, there were plenty he could think of about her and that rose-pink dress she wore.
The last time he’d seen her, she’d been covered with perspiration, with lines of exhaustion etched into her face. Now, however, she took his breath away. There were some things that were the same. Her hair still swung in a shiny, dark drape down her back, and her smooth, creamy skin still glowed. The mile-long legs hadn’t changed either, or, if they had, had only gotten better—longer, silkier, more golden.
He followed those legs down to her feet and froze, feeling suddenly light-headed. Her feet were showcased to perfection in strappy white sandals—dainty, small-boned feet with shell-pink toenails. He could imagine her lying next to him in bed, running them up and down his leg. I’m losing my mind. I’ve never had a foot fetish before, he thought, his gaze lingering on her toes. With a concerted effort he turned his attention elsewhere, and things got even worse.
Her swollen abdomen was gone, replaced by a flat stomach and the soft indentation of a waist that flared into gently rounded hips. His gaze followed the curve of those hips back to the waist, then up farther to the lush breasts that strained against the halter top of the sundress.
He then followed the strap of that sundress as it disappeared around the back of her neck and reappeared on the other side to fasten at the top with one shiny gold button. His eyes lingered on that offensive button. One day, he decided, he was going to rip that button right off. With his teeth.
He felt his trousers become distinctly less comfortable and decided it might be prudent to get his mind onto a safer subject. “Ah, you said the baby’s okay.”
“She’s fine. She’s gaining weight and making little noises. All the things six-week-old babies should do. Mabel has her. Do you want to hold her?”
“Ah, no,” Zac said quickly. “I, uh, think I may be coming down with a cold.”
“I see.” She saw all right. She saw that Zac was positively terrified at the idea of holding a baby. Was that why he’d been so scarce the past few weeks? Did he have a phobia about babies, or something? She decided to test her theory. “Gee, you don’t sound at all hoarse.” She touched her hand to his forehead. “And you’re not the least bit feverish. Let me get Cupcake. You won’t believe how much she’s grown.”
Zac cleared his throat and backed up a step. “I wouldn’t feel right about exposing her. Just in case, you know.”
“Well, if you’re sure …” Libby let the words trail off, filled with tender amusement by the stark look of relief that flitted across his face. He was too tall, too powerful, too masculine to be reduced to terror at the very mention of a baby. She wished she could erase the fear.
Why didn’t he realize that the very gentleness of his large hands called for a baby to caress, that the breadth of his shoulders was made to cradle a baby’s head—or a woman’s. A surge of longing shot through her. She wanted his shoulder to cradle her baby’s head—and her own. Libby continued to stare at Zac, a dreamy look on her face.
Zac began to fidget. “You, uh, you said you’re doing fine, right?”
“Perfect,” she murmured, still gazing at him with a mixture of hope, speculation, and intriguing sexual awareness in her face. He didn’t like the way she was looking at him. Or maybe he did. Too much.
She was staring at him with those killer blue-velvet eyes, and her lips were curved in the barest hint of a smile. It was a look guaranteed to knock a man off his feet—or at least knock every last vestige of good sense right out of his head. And since he was still standing, he could only assume that his good sense had been the one to go.
This was proved when he found himself agreeing to have dinner at her house. He couldn’t figure out why he’d done it. He didn’t need to get mixed up with a woman who came complete with ready-made family. She was probably looking for daddy material, and he wasn’t it. So why didn’t he simply tell her that he couldn’t make it?
Was it because he fantasized about wrapping himself in that hair? Was it because of her fathomless eyes, or was it the smile that took his breath away every time he saw it? Was it because of her strength, her purpose, her serenity? Was it her dry humor or her brains? Maybe it was all of those, he acknowledged honestly. Or—his gaze lit on her feet—maybe it was those tempting little toes peeking out from those sexy sandals.
Libby wiggled her toes as if aware he was staring at her feet, so he forced
himself to look up, only to see Deb bearing down on the two of them, baby in tow. Now he did run his finger around his suddenly too-tight collar.
He turned to Libby. “I think I’ll get some coffee. Do you want—” He broke off suddenly as Deb thrust the infant into his arms. His hands automatically clutched the baby to him.
“Hasn’t she grown?” Deb enthused.
Zac managed a weak smile and surveyed the baby. She had changed since he’d last seen her. She had one tiny dark curl on her otherwise bald head and had the same blue eyes as her mother. She was dressed in green terry and smelled soft and sweet, like baby powder. “That she has.”
At the sound of his deep voice, Victoria started and her tiny bottom lip began to quiver. She restlessly kicked her arms and legs and made a little mewling sound in protest. That was all it took. Zac immediately handed the baby to Libby.
“I really need my evening coffee,” he said in desperation. “I get mean without caffeine.” Actually, caffeine after supper kept him awake, but he’d rather pace the floor until the wee hours than hold a tiny, screaming person in his arms. Not only was it murder on his eardrums, but it was hell on his ego.
Libby calmly cradled her now-cooing daughter in her arms. “I’ll go with you. I could use something cool to drink.”
“I’ll bring you something,” Zac offered hastily—anything to get away from the crush of babies that seemed to be coming at him. “What would you like? Coffee? Soft drink? Tea?”
“Juice or a soft drink, either one would be fine. Nothing with caffeine in it, though. It keeps Cupcake up at night.”
Now, why’d she have to go and remind him that she was nursing? That was one image he’d tried long and hard to erase from his mind. He thought of her again, the way she’d looked in the hospital when she’d nursed the baby for the first time—the self-conscious blush that almost matched her rosy nipples, the look of surprise, then wonder, as the baby hungrily suckled. God, he really needed that coffee, he thought, and made a determined bee-line to the refreshment table.
Libby watched him as he made his way to the far corner of the room. At least he’d agreed to come to dinner. That’s something, I guess. She then turned her attention to the small daughter nestled contentedly in her arms. “Why’d you have to act up that way, Sweetcakes? He thinks you don’t like him.”