Falling For His Proper Mistress

Home > Other > Falling For His Proper Mistress > Page 12
Falling For His Proper Mistress Page 12

by Tessa Radley


  “I thought we were all dead.”

  The brunette was ashen, too.

  So she wasn’t the only one who’d been terrified out of her wits for those moments, Avery realized. Moving off the verge, she flinched as she put her weight on her left leg. She felt unexpectedly shaky. “I’m going to sit down,” she announced.

  “Try putting your head between your knees.”

  Avery bent forward.

  “Shock. My name is Nancy, by the way. Can I call someone for you? The tow trucks will probably be arriving soon.”

  “Guy.”

  “Which guy?”

  Avery raised her head and caught Nancy’s troubled look. The woman thought she was in shock. “Guy Jarrod—he lives at Jarrod Ridge.”

  “Okay.” Nancy’s face cleared, and she pulled a cell phone out the front pocket of her jeans.

  Closing her eyes, Avery was dimly conscious of Nancy telling someone what had happened. She concentrated on trying to stop the shaking that seemed to consume her.

  At the sound of a vehicle slowing, she looked up.

  “The paramedics are here,” said Nancy, rising to her feet.

  While the paramedics—a young beanpole of a man and a plump, motherly woman—tended to Avery, she tipped her head up to Nancy.

  “How can I ever thank you enough for stopping to help me?”

  The young woman shrugged. “It was nothing. It could as easily have been me who ended up in a ditch. And I didn’t even get that idiot’s license plate number.”

  “Me, neither.”

  They shared a smile.

  The shaking had stopped. “Thank you for staying with me.”

  There was the sound of several vehicles pulling up. “Oh, and here’s the tow truck, they’ll probably take your car to town,” said Nancy.

  “I’ll have to inform the rental company of the damage to the car.” Avery winced at the thought. That was a call she was not looking forward to making. At least there would be insurance to cover the mess.

  “Looks like your Guy is here too. So I’ll be off.”

  Avery started. She was tempted to beg Nancy to stay.

  “Is that sore?” The young paramedic asked, prodding gently around her knee. “No.”

  “Avery!”

  She jerked her head up at the sound of that all-too-familiar male voice.

  “You are hurt!”

  Guy moved faster than Avery had ever seen.

  “Don’t worry,” she said, “it’s only a graze—it barely stings.”

  “But that ankle will need X-rays,” said the motherly paramedic. “We’ll take you to the hospital.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “I’ll take her.” Guy was grasping her hand. It gave Avery an unexpected sense of comfort, of being cared for.

  She let him help her to her feet but as she put her weight on her foot, her ankle crumpled. “Ow.”

  “Definitely to the hospital.” Guy’s tone brooked no argument.

  Yet Avery tried. “I don’t need to go to the hospital. I’m sure it’s nothing terrible—ice and elevation and it will be fine by tomorrow.”

  Guy shook his head.

  “Guy, I’m fine. If you absolutely insist I can go to the medical center at the resort.”

  “You’ll need X-rays.”

  “Don’t be such a pessimist.” Avery tried to make light of it.

  But Guy only put his arm around her waist and said, “Lean on me. The sooner you get treatment, the better.”

  “He’s right, my dear,” added the motherly paramedic. “And if the only way to get you there is to let him take you, then so be it. But I need you to sign here for me.” She produced a clipboard with a form.

  With them all ganging up on her, Avery quit arguing and signed.

  Once Guy had her in the SUV the drive to town went quickly. At the hospital a receptionist handed Avery a further sheaf of forms to complete. Full of questions about personal details. Medications. Consent.

  Whether she was pregnant.

  Pregnant. The word jumped out at her. If only…

  She hesitated, before dismissing the sudden, startling fear. She wasn’t pregnant. The test she’d taken—twice—had confirmed that. Before she could have second thoughts, she signed the form and gave it back to the receptionist with a smile.

  “How long is the wait?” Guy loomed over the desk, his posture far from comforting.

  “Not too long.” The receptionist gave him a polite smile. “There’s a coffee machine, feel free to help yourself.”

  Avery limped away to the seating area.

  Guy came up behind her. “Can I get you a hot drink?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Instead of settling beside her, Guy started to pace.

  More out of a desire to give Guy something to do, than from thirst, Avery said, “I wouldn’t mind a bottle of water, I saw a kiosk when we came in.”

  “Right.”

  Guy was gone before she could say more.

  The receptionist caught Avery’s eye and said, “Good idea to keep him busy.”

  Avery laughed in agreement. “I’ve only twisted my ankle, but he’s behaving like it’s broken.”

  The woman clucked. “Some men fuss when they’re worried.”

  Avery didn’t set her right. Guy wouldn’t possibly be concerned about something so minor.

  He still hadn’t returned by the time Avery was ushered into an examining room. The doctor had kind brown eyes that looked years younger than her cropped, gray hair suggested.

  “You’ve hurt your ankle.”

  Avery nodded and told her what had happened. “Just one thing,” she tacked on, “why do you need to know whether I’m pregnant?”

  “So that we can take the necessary steps to protect the baby. It’s always better to be safe than sorry. Is it possible that you may be pregnant?”

  “I can’t rule it out.”

  The doctor made a note on her pad. “We’ll get that checked out to give some certainty in case we need X-rays. For now, let me take a look at that ankle.”

  Avery slipped her shoes off. “I took an over-the-counter pregnancy test—it was negative.” The sinking regret that had swamped her returned for an instant. Reason told her that she wasn’t pregnant. If she were, she’d be almost three months along by now. Surely she wouldn’t have missed the signs?

  It was impossible.

  Yet since the first time Guy had raised the possibility of her pregnancy the thought had lingered, haunting her, refusing to dissipate, playing on her mind, recalling the dreams of motherhood…a family. Wishful thinking?

  No, it had been nothing more than dreams. Dreams that didn’t—could never—include Guy.

  Determinedly Avery shook herself free of the reverie.

  “How does this feel?” The doctor’s touch was cool on her ankle. “No pain.”

  “What about now?”

  Avery flinched. “That’s tender.”

  There were more questions, and afterward the doctor said, “There is some swelling. It’s probably only a twist, but I’d like to x-ray it just in case.”

  “It must’ve happened while I was trying to get out of the vehicle.” Nancy had wanted her to wait for the paramedics, but she hadn’t been able to bear the idea of being trapped inside the crippled car.

  "The X-rays will confirm whether there are any fractures, but first let's get a specimen and check for pregnancy. I may have to examine you, too." The doctor lifted the handset of the phone on the wall. "Let me call the nurse to show you where the bathroom is."

  Eleven

  “You were right to be concerned,” The doctor said ten minutes later as she leaned forward on her stool and studied Avery. “You are pregnant. When was your last period?”

  Avery’s ears started to ring and a numbness filled her. Frantically she calculated in her head. “I should’ve started my period this past weekend.” But she hadn’t. More desperately, she continued, “But the test—”

  “When di
d you take the test?”

  The test had failed. Despite the claims on the package of ninety-nine percent accuracy. How typical. Struggling with the daze of disbelief that had enveloped her, Avery tried to concentrate. “About two weeks ago.”

  “Too early to have shown.” The doctor sounded very certain.

  Avery stared at her in surprise. “What do you mean, too early?”

  “By my estimation you’re only about three weeks pregnant.”

  “Three weeks?”

  That meant it had probably happened that night in the hot tub. Oh, God, how unlucky. And how lucky, too. She’d wanted a child…Guy’s child…now it had happened, against all odds.

  And against Guy’s will.

  Joy withered and dismay set in.

  “I know it must be a lot to take in,” the doctor said kindly. “There are always adjustments to be made.” Glancing down at the form on her desk, she continued, “I see you work at Jarrod Ridge. I’ll give you a card for a local prenatal group. Here’s a diet sheet with suggestions of what might cause discomfort—don’t forget to take plenty of folic acid.” With a smile, the doctor added, “Congratulations. After you’ve had the X-rays done, come back and we’ll talk about what to do to make that ankle as comfortable as possible. Ice and as much rest as possible for starters.”

  “Won’t the X-rays harm the baby?”

  The doctor shook her head. “You’ll be protected by a lead apron. It will form a cone right down to your ankles. Baby will be perfectly safe.”

  Avery staggered back into the reception area, still reeling with shock.

  Guy sprang forward.

  “What did the doctor say?”

  “Uh—” she gazed into his alarmed eyes. I’m pregnant. Yeah, that would allay his fears. Instead she forced a smile. “A twisted ankle. Nothing major.” Nothing major?

  How on earth was she supposed to break the news? Guy had never wanted a long-term relationship. He considered her capable of sleeping with his friend, his business partner. Of flirting with every eligible male who came her way. If he thought she was capable of that kind of treachery, surely he would never believe this baby was his? Particularly when she wasn’t even sure whether he believed her about Jeff. Oh, God, Jeff was his friend, someone who was part of his everyday life. She’d prefer to see Jeff in hell. How could she bear to tell Guy that he was her baby’s father when that would mean giving a creep like Jeff entry into her life? And her baby’s life.

  It was all enough to make her feel ill.

  And that sensation had nothing to do with morning sickness—although that would probably not take long to follow.

  Guy was staring at her expectantly. He must’ve asked her a question.

  “I need to ice it and keep my weight off it, the doctor said,” Avery bubbled, hoping that her response wasn’t too far off what he asked.

  His brow creased in a frown. “The room you have has a flight of stairs in the corridor. You can’t stay there. Now you’ll have to move in with me.”

  “No!”

  Panic set in.

  She couldn’t bear to stay with him given all the tension between them.

  “Avery, I swear I’ll protect you. Your business credibility will not be compromised. But you need to be realistic. If you’re going to have your foot up to rest it, you should have someone around.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  His jaw firmed. “We’ll see.”

  A nurse came forward. “Ms. Lancaster? Follow me.”

  Guy caught her fingers. “Where to next?”

  Avery shook her fingers free. “I’ll be back as soon as the X-rays are done.”

  A backward glance revealed Guy pacing in the reception area, the bottle of water she’d requested still clutched in his hand.

  “About time you got here.”

  Gavin, the next oldest Jarrod after him and Blake, came loping across the tennis court swinging his racket. Guy had called his brother to let him know that Avery had met with an accident, and he would be late for the game that had become a weekly fixture since their father’s funeral.

  “How is Avery?” Gavin brushed his light brown hair back from a face tanned to a shade of gold by the August sun.

  “She banged her ankle.” Guy shrugged, reluctant to let on how anxious he’d been. He hated hospitals. And all the while that they’d been there he’d kept worrying that something was going to go wrong. It had started with that dratted confrontation with the bear by the river. Hell, he’d almost been expecting today’s call.

  He had to get a grip.

  Because Avery wasn’t going to die.

  She’d hurt herself—it was far from fatal. He wasn’t about to share his baseless fear with Gavin, even though Gavin—not Blake—had been closest to him growing up. His twin Blake had always been able to say exactly what his father wanted to hear, whereas anything that Guy had said or done had been subject to criticism. His father had dismissed his drawings as useless. And when he’d told his father he wanted to be a photographer when he grew up, his father had bellowed so much that Guy had terminated his membership with the school camera club.

  “She’ll need to rest,” Gavin said.

  “I know.” Guy unzipped his bag and pulled out his tennis shoes. “But she’s such a stubborn little thing, I doubt she’ll listen.”

  Gavin gave him a swift look. “Sounds like you know her pretty well.”

  Oh, hell. That’s right, Avery hadn’t wanted his family—anyone—to know about them. He was so bad at keeping secrets. Especially from his family.

  “Uh, we’ve talked a bit over the past weeks.”

  “A bit?” Gavin started to grin. “I heard about drinks in the sky lounge, dinners at Chagall’s…you were even spotted out in town one night.”

  “All work—we were talking about the menus and beverages.” It sounded so damn righteous. So he looked down and fastened his laces and added, “Truly.”

  The snort Gavin gave told him his brother hadn’t bought it. “I suggested that she stay in one of the family suites until her ankle gets better, but she refuses.”

  Gavin raised an eyebrow. “Your suite, I suppose?”

  Avery would have his head if she overheard this conversation.

  “The woman is injured.” Guy tried to look affronted as he picked up his racket and zipped the cover off. “She will need help. Get your imagination out of the gutter, Gavin.”

  After giving him a penetrating stare, his brother said, “Perhaps she could stay with Erica and Christian.”

  Guy considered it. “Avery might feel like she’s a third wheel—those two are nesting…planning their wedding.”

  “What about if she stayed with Melissa at Willow Lodge?” Gavin suggested.

  “Willow Lodge is the cabin farthest from the Manor. It would be too hard for Avery to manage.”

  “Too hard for Avery to manage—or too far from your suite?” Gavin taunted as they walked to opposite ends of the court.

  Guy didn’t answer. This was exactly the kind of talk Avery wanted to avoid. At Willow Lodge she’d have some space, some privacy. He concentrated on his serve. Fault.

  After a double fault, he collected the balls and said, “You know, you might be onto something there. Willow Lodge would be perfect. Avery might be happy with that idea.”

  “You better take care,” Gavin called a few minutes later when Guy served another double fault that gave Gavin the game. “You’re distracted. Looks like woman trouble to me.”

  Ignoring the comment, Guy handed two tennis balls to his brother as they switched ends. “You still climbing the walls with nothing to do?”

  Gavin said, “It’s been extremely frustrating. A month ago I was in Namibia designing a wall for the biggest dam in that desert country. Now all projects are on hold. I’m twiddling my thumbs. Sitting around, waiting for Dad’s estate to be wound up is driving me nuts.” Opening his gear bag he pulled two bottles of water from the depths and handed one to Guy.

  Pausing to
open the pop-up top, Guy considered his brother’s problem. “The Food and Wine Gala might not be the kind of thing that spins your wheels, but there must be some challenge you can sink your teeth into.”

  “I’ll have to find something. Otherwise I might explore that old mine we played in as children. Maybe I can strike gold.”

  Guy laughed then tipped his head back and took a long swallow from the water bottle. Way back in 1879 Aspen had been the destination for a silver rush. Among the miners had been Eli Jarrod, their great-great-great-grandfather. “Come on!”

  With a start Guy realized that his brother was waiting to serve. After tossing the bottle into his unzipped gear bag, he jogged back onto the court. “Ready.”

  The next few minutes passed in a flurry of action, during which Guy conceded most of the points to his brother. He sneaked a look at his watch. What would Avery be doing now? She’d gone to Tranquility Spa for a massage after their return. Surely that would be over by now?

  A ball whizzed past him.

  “Great ace,” he yelled, hoping flattery would distract his brother from his moment of inattention.

  “Ace? My eye.” Gavin was laughing as he crossed to the other side and lined up for the final serve of the match.

  This time the delivery was indeed an ace. No doubt about it. Guy shook Gavin’s hand over the net and took the ribbing about where his thoughts had been for the duration of the game.

  “You must be in love, brother.”

  Guy chuckled loudly. “Me? Not going to happen. I was thinking about what to do to keep you busy. Can’t have you going insane with boredom.”

  He shifted under the unerring focus of Gavin’s gaze.

  “I always thought that when you fell for a woman you would fall hard,” Gavin said finally. “Looks like it has happened at last.”

  “Don’t kid yourself,” Guy growled.

  “Who’s kidding whom?”

  Guy had a sinking feeling that despite his wide-eyed mock innocence Gavin might be right, that he was indeed teetering on the edge of the precipice yawning ahead of him.

  The vision was not comforting.

  Guy paused for a moment at the door of the premier spa room that Melissa had told him Avery was using.

 

‹ Prev