Chapter 2 #2
"All right. All right." He wished he could get through to her but had a feeling this was not the time to push. "I'll go and talk to the doctors while you get dressed. Unless you want my help."
"No."
He rose and could not resist the urge to push back tendrils of hair off her forehead.
"We're going to be fine." He assured her quietly.
When she did not respond, he turned and left the room.
She sat there, her heart pounding and the sickness roiling inside her stomach. If she thought about it, she was going to weep, and this was not the place for it. She would wait until she was in the privacy of her home.
*****
"You don't have to stay." He had insisted on driving behind her.
"I know that." He waited until she opened the front door before helping her off with her jacket. Shrugging out of his, he hung them both up on the neatly carved coat tree just inside the doorway.
"How about some tea?"
So, her emotional meltdown was going to have to wait a few minutes, she thought impatiently.
"I'm not just going to turn around and go back to the clinic to have an abortion, if that's what you're afraid of."
"Tea and crackers." She watched in teeth gritting frustration as he headed for the kitchen.
Okay, fine. Making sure the door was secured, she made her way upstairs. She was proud of her little house, with its hard wood floors and wide windows. The place had come up for purchase a year ago and she had jumped at it.
It was situated in a very nice neighborhood with a park just a few miles away. And her nearest neighbor was an old veteran who loved to tell his war stories. She was not home often enough to be subjected to his retelling and actually liked the old weirdo.
She was especially proud of her bedroom. It was large and airy, with wide windows and a window seat she would curl up on with a good book, which also gave her the opportunity to stare at her tiny backyard garden.
The winter had destroyed her painstaking efforts, but the snow making layers over the shrubberies and trees was not a bad view.
Slipping out of her boots, she went to sit on the curved loveseat across from the bed. Dragging the blanket towards her, she wrapped it around her. She had a fireplace but was too tired and listless to see about rekindling the peat.
"I found some saltines." He came bearing a tray table with a steaming pot of tea and the biscuits laid artfully on a small plate. He had even coated them with orange marmalade.
"Thanks."
He nodded and sat next to her.
"You don't have to stay."
"You already said that."
Taking up the cup, she sipped carefully. "I'm sure you have things to do."
"I do. I'm staying, so you might as well stop wasting your breath."
She cut him a glance and decided she didn't have the energy to argue.
"It's cold in here." Without waiting for her permission, he rose and went straight to the hearth. She watched as he crouched down and stirred the fire to blazing life. Within minutes, she felt the warmth seeping through the blanket.
"That was one of the selling points when I decided to buy this place."
"What? The fireplace?" Brushing off his hands, he came to sit back down.
She nodded. "And the view. I liked sitting on the window seat and gazing at the wooded area. I once saw an antler drinking from the well. I was so excited, I jumped up to grab my phone and took some pictures."
She laughed at the memory. The laughter faded when he lifted his hand to brush her forehead.
"I'm scared."
"I know."
"I just--" She swallowed more of the tea. "I'm going to have to decide what to do and then how to tell my mother." She laughed softly, humorlessly. "She's going to give me her famous speech about being careless. Violet Wilcox is big on always doing the right thing."
She shrugged. "And she doesn't like you. Says you're too pretty and too rich. Thinks it's a sin to have so much money."
His mouth tightened at that. He had had the displeasure of meeting the woman once when she was on a senior's cruise. The introduction had not gone too well, and he distinctly recalled the woman staring at him with suspicious eyes.
She had passed on her good looks to her only child, but hers was marred by a tight grimace and pursed lips that announced to the world that she was looking for anything to complain about.
"It's between us." He said shortly.
Curving her hands around the cup, she studied his handsome face. Her mother had lectured her about getting involved with a 'man like that.' "Nothing good will ever come of it." She had pronounced in her dire tone. "He's your employer and spoiled."
"He's not spoiled."
"His family is rolling in money." The way she said it was nothing short of insulting. "Who knows if the wealth is all ill-gotten gains."
"They produce some of the finest olive oil in the world." Leanne had pointed out.
"People like that are never satisfied. You'd do well to stay away from him."
"She warned me to stay away from you."
"Pity you didn't listen." Whenever he was angry, his voice turned frightfully formal. Rising, he went to the hearth to poke at the embers, sending sparks flying.
"I wouldn't be in this predicament."
Slamming down the poker, he marched to the window, his broad shoulders stiff.
"Is that what this is? A predicament?"
She sighed wearily. "I don't want to argue."
"That's too damn bad--" He whirled just in time to see her shakily putting the cup down.
"Leanne." He was by her side in a second. "God, I'm sorry."
"I just want to lie down."
A quick glance at the tray showed that she had finished most of everything. Scooping her up, he carried her to bed. Holding her in one arm, he turned down the quilt and placed her gently against the pillows.
"Just close the door when you leave-- What are you doing?" He was pulling the sweater over his head.
"What does it look like?" Sitting on the side of the bed, he took off his boots and climbed in.
"Look--"
"Shut the hell up." Sliding an arm under her, he eased her towards him until she was laying on his chest. "Just shut up." He murmured as he wrapped his arms around her.
"Don't you dare talk to me like that." She whispered shakily. Curling her fingers into the stark white of his t-shirt, she let go and had her meltdown.
His mouth grim and expression bleak, he held her while she sobbed into his shirt. Saying nothing, he rubbed his hands up and down her back soothingly and waited until she was finished.
"Better?"
She sniffed. "Damn hormones."
"As long as it did the job." Tilting his chin down, he examined her tear stained cheeks. Using the pad of his thumb, he wiped the moisture away.
"Get some sleep." He advised.
Instead of arguing, she nodded and snuggled against him.
"I still haven't decided." She murmured drowsily.
"I know. Turn it off baby."
She was half asleep but still managed to feel the thrill at the endearment and his tender tone of voice.
"Three babies is a lot."
"Hmm. We'll hire nannies."
"I don't want strangers taking care of my children." Her eyes drifted close and he wondered if she realized that she had made up her mind and was already accepting her condition.
"We'll discuss this at a later date."
When she did not answer, he saw that she was fast asleep and snoring slightly.
He stared up at the ceiling, his fingers still stroking her back up and down in what he considered to be a soothing rhythm.
It hit him just then. He was about to be a father, of not one or two babies, but three!
He was the youngest of his siblings and had hit the damn jackpot.
That's what his family was going to think of it as, a jackpot.
His parents adored children and was going to get a charge out of having three babies to spoil.
He had no idea how he should feel. Shellshocked comes to mind. Numb with disbelief that after being so cautious all of his life when it comes to sex and relationships, he was now fully engrossed in one.
The woman in his arms, her long, limber legs tangled with his had taken him completely by surprise.
It had been by chance that he boarded the Kostas Princess that faithful summer afternoon.
It had been the maiden voyage, and he had offered to do the cruise and see to it that things were running smoothly.
Leanne had been engaged in a lively discussion with some veterans and playing a game of cards with them. He had stopped at the doorway of the elegant entertainment room with its glittering lights and shimmering gold and white design.
Instead of noticing all of the elegance that was synonymous with one of their cruise ships, he had noticed the slender woman seated on a table and surrounded by doddering old men who were hanging on to her every word.
She had done some tricks that had the laughter bubbling from his chest. He had managed to suppress his mirth, not wanting to draw attention and interrupt their pleasure.
The purser had beckoned him urgently, causing him to leave albeit reluctantly. But he had found her later that night. She had looked so different and had taken his breath.
Wearing a dazzling silver gown that clung to her skin, she had announced the single's dance.
He had stood there watching her navigate the floor, the natural way she went about doing her thing, the dazzling smile, the sinuous grace of a very sexy body and the way her thick hair swirl around when she moved.
He had stepped up and asked him for a dance. Cutting off the memories, he closed his eyes.