ONCE UPON A VALENTINE Read online

  “You think she wouldn’t have noticed eventually?”

  She groaned and pressed her head back against the seat. “She fancies herself a matchmaker, you know.”

  “Cornelia?” He laughed. “So what if she does?”

  She just sighed and closed her eyes. Her head was throbbing worse than ever. When she felt Pax press his palm to her forehead again, she didn’t even startle. She just wanted to grab his hand and hold it there—because his palm was wonderfully cool. Of course, she did no such thing, and after a second, his hand was gone.

  For some reason, she wanted to cry.

  “Why’d you take three pregnancy tests?”

  She surreptitiously swiped a tear from her cheek. “I didn’t trust the first two, obviously.”

  “Always with the trust thing.”

  She shot him a look only to find him smiling gently at her. Realizing he was just goading her because he could, she huffed and rolled her eyes. “Why were there so many relatives from your father’s side at your maternal grandparents’ party?”

  “Because we’re just one big happy family.” He glanced at her. “My dad’s folks would have been there too, but they’re on a Mediterranean cruise.”

  “Fancy vacation,” she murmured.

  “One Gramps has saved his whole life to take his wife on.”

  “Why didn’t you just send them, like you did with the hot air balloon deal?” She sounded cranky and didn’t care. “You’ve got the money.”

  He smiled. “I would have but when you know them all better, you’ll understand. Merricks and Mahoneys always pay their own way.”

  Even though she was burning up, she shivered, but she didn’t know if it was fever or the thought of being around long enough to know the rest of his family that well.

  A few minutes later, he pulled into the hospital parking lot. The sight of the medical complex sent anxiety shooting through her, but she pushed open her own door without waiting for him to do something mannerly like come around and lift her out of the truck the way he’d put her into it.

  He locked the vehicle and joined her. “Decided you’re in a hurry to see a doctor after all?”

  “We’re here,” she said abruptly. Better that he think she was in a rush than figure out that she wanted to dissolve every time he put his hands on her. “Might as well get it over and done with.”

  “Let’s do it then.” He took her hand and led her toward the building.

  Despite her earlier protests, Shea was relieved to discover they didn’t have to go through the emergency department to see Dr. Montgomery. Instead, they went to an office on the fourth floor, where they could wait while the doctor was notified that they were there.

  “I’ve always hated hospitals,” she murmured when the volunteer who’d shown them to the office left and they were alone again. She got up from her chair and crossed to the room’s sole window. It overlooked the parking lot and what seemed to be a sea of vehicles. “I remember getting my tonsils out when I was seven. I had to stay overnight and I was terrified being here all alone.”

  “Didn’t they let your parents stay with you?”

  “I suppose they would have if they’d have been interested or around.” She rubbed her fingertips over the windowsill. “My parents had already split up by then. My father’s been in Europe since I was a toddler.”

  “What about your mom?”

  “Let’s just say she’s not overly endowed with maternal instincts.” She turned and leaned back against the sill. The door to the office was closed, making the small space feel even smaller. Pax was sitting in one of the two chairs, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his hands loosely linked across his flat stomach. Considering he was the one who’d been so anxious to get her here, it annoyed the life out of her that he seemed so at ease, while she felt like ants were nibbling at her nerves.

  “You said you had a lot of step-siblings?”

  She nodded. “How long do you think we’re going to have to wait in here?”

  He shrugged. “Who knows? It’s not like this is a normal office visit.” He pressed his hands to the metal armrests and pushed out of the chair. “Why do you always avoid talking about yourself?”

  “It’s hardly interesting,” she muttered. She looked over her shoulder out the window and imagined that she could pick out Pax’s SUV from her vantage point.

  “I don’t know about that,” he mused. “I was interested to learn that you had your tonsils out when you were seven.”

  She looked back and found him closing the few feet of distance between them. Her mouth went dry. She couldn’t back up any; she could already feel the cool windowpane against her spine. “There’s nothing interesting about my tonsils,” she whispered.

  “Had mine out when I was seventeen. In this very hospital.” He smiled faintly. “We might’ve been here at the same time.”

  She let out a disbelieving laugh. “The odds aren’t very good that we were.”

  He tilted his head slightly, studying her face. He was so close that she could see just how densely brown his eyes were—not a single fleck of lighter color to be had. They were like melted chocolate. Smooth. Rich. Inviting.

  “I don’t have a problem with long shots,” he murmured. “When Erik and I started the business, the odds were that we’d never succeed. But we did.”

  “Because you’re good at what you do.”

  “Lots of people are good at what they do. Cornelia says you’ve got a gift for reading between the lines of all those letters and emails she gets. That you can sense the genuine article even before you start doing your digging. I find that fact about you very interesting.”

  “So you and Cornelia have talked about me.”

  He pressed his hands against the sill on either side of her and leaned down until his head was only inches from hers. Her breath stalled somewhere inside her chest. She dropped her gaze, only to find herself looking at his lips, which wasn’t any safer.

  “Some would consider,” his voice seemed deeper than ever, “my chances with you to be a long shot. Yet...here we are.”

  “Because we got caught,” she said hoarsely. “We had unprotected sex, and nature took advantage.”

  “Another interesting point. Why was it unprotected?”

  His mouth was barely five inches from hers. She could barely breathe. “I haven’t needed to be protected. Not since—” She broke off.

  “Since...?”

  She swallowed. “Since my fiancé dumped me,” she admitted huskily. What was the point in pretending? He knew about Bruce now anyway. “What’s your excuse? You’ve been the man of the town since before we met. Or don’t you think a guy has any responsibility when it comes to safe sex? You figure it’s a woman’s duty to—”

  “I had a condom in my wallet,” he said gruffly. “And yeah. I know just by admitting it that you’re going to figure I’m always on the make even though I’m not.”

  She swallowed. Her lips parted.

  “But the point is, Shea.” He leaned closer and his lips grazed hers so lightly she wondered fancifully if it was her imagination. “When I was with you, I couldn’t think of anything but you.”

  “Sorry about the wait.”

  They both jumped at the intrusive sound of the door opening and the voice that accompanied it. Shea winced when her head thumped the window behind her, and she looked beyond Pax’s wide chest to the doorway.

  The doctor’s bright eyes took them both in as she extended her hand toward Pax, who was closest to the door. “I’m Dr. Sara Montgomery,” she greeted. “And I understand you two have a baby on the way.”

  Chapter Seven

  It took another hour before Dr. Montgomery was finished examining Shea. She sent them home with a list of instructions and a starter pack of prenatal vita
mins.

  Not only had the comfortably middle-aged doctor officially confirmed what the home pregnancy tests had already revealed in triplicate, but she’d also confirmed that Shea had a sinus infection, which was causing the headache and the mild fever. She prescribed an antibiotic that was safe for her to take and wanted Shea to drink lots of liquids and rest for the next twenty-four hours.

  She also wanted them to set another appointment to see her in her regular office in the next week or so.

  Them.

  Not just Shea.

  The doctor believed they were a couple and had treated them accordingly.

  They picked up the prescription at the hospital pharmacy and drove back to Shea’s apartment in silence. She didn’t know if Pax felt as shell-shocked as she did, and she was glad he didn’t feel a need to bring up that near-kiss the doctor had walked in on.

  Even though it had been hours since he’d picked her up, a police car was still parked in front of her building. And it had been joined by two others.

  Pax studied the vehicles, clearly displeased by the sight. “Is there ever a time when a police car isn’t parked outside your building?”

  “There wasn’t one here the morning after the ice storm when you dropped me off.”

  An aging van was just pulling out of a spot at the end of the block, and Pax hit the gas, sliding into the space before anyone else could get to it. “Every cop in the city was dealing with the storm,” he countered. “Even the criminals were on ice. Wait here while I find out what’s going on.”

  “Don’t be silly.” She started to push open her door but he reached right across her, grabbed the handle and yanked it shut again.

  “I said, wait.”

  Her heart skittered around a little. “And if I don’t want to wait?”

  His arm was still stretched past her chest. His eyes met hers. The chocolate wasn’t melted now. His gaze was hard. And determined. “Do you really want to test me right now, Shea?”

  It galled her that she felt a shudder of excitement sliding down her spine. Her head still ached, she still kept breaking out in a sweat, and he was still turning her on.

  There was just no winning in her world.

  “Fine,” she said tightly. “I’ll wait.”

  He didn’t move immediately, though, as if he wasn’t sure whether to believe her or not.

  “You should move,” she finally said, feeling a little desperate. “Wouldn’t want you to catch my infection.”

  “Nice try. The doc said you weren’t contagious.” His gaze dropped briefly to her lips, but then he moved back. He pushed open his door and got out.

  She watched him walk toward the building entrance and speak with the officers there. He was a head taller than both and looked a lot more physically fit.

  She blew out a long, shaky breath. She was never going to be able to forget just how exquisitely fit.

  After about five minutes, he headed back to the truck—his long stride making short work of it—and got back behind the wheel. “They’re investigating a couple of break-ins.” He looked at her. “You didn’t mention that there had been a lot of them lately.”

  His voice was mild, but her nerves prickled warningly. “I didn’t think it was worth mentioning.”

  “Has your apartment been broken into?”

  She started to deny it but thought better of it. “Once. But it was last year, and the only thing worth taking was my television.” She’d had her laptop with her at work when it had happened. She’d never left it at home again after that for the simple reason that she couldn’t afford to replace it if it were stolen.

  He didn’t look particularly mollified, though. “You can’t stay here.”

  She frowned, glancing toward the police officers. “Did they tell you that?”

  “No. I’m telling you that.”

  She exhaled. “Well, like it or not, this is where I live.”

  “I don’t like it.” He was eyeing the police cars. “This is a crap area and you’re pregnant.”

  Her hackles rose. “It’s my neighborhood and there are at least a half-dozen women living here who are pregnant.” She couldn’t name names, but she’d certainly seen them. She’d unfastened her seat belt while she’d been waiting for him to talk to the officers, and now she pushed open the door, quickly sliding out before he could stop her. She grabbed the small bag with her prescription. “I’m going inside.”

  “Dammit, Shea—”

  “My head is pounding and I want to lie down,” she said flatly and shut the door on his annoyed expression.

  Pax watched her stomp down the sidewalk toward the police officers. He couldn’t very well toss her over his shoulder and drag her back to his place with them watching.

  Stifling an oath, he pulled out his cell phone and called his sister. “I’m still with Shea,” he said without preamble. “Can you go over and let out Hooch for a while and fill his dog bowl?”

  Beatrice agreed readily. “Is she okay?”

  “She’s got a sinus infection, but she’ll be fine. I’ll talk to you later.” She’d barely said okay when he ended the call.

  He grabbed Shea’s jacket that was sitting on the back seat along with the bag of dry cereal, locked the truck and headed after her, catching up with her in the building’s stairwell.

  She was climbing the steps with none of the energy she’d displayed earlier that day, and she gave him a resigned look. “Now what?”

  “When’s the last time the elevator worked?”

  She huffed and turned to face the ascent again. “I don’t know. Last year at some point, I guess.”

  “The elevators always work in my building.”

  “Hurray for you.” She took a few more steps, and he could see the way she used the handrail to help pull herself up.

  “You’re supposed to be getting rest right now—not climbing three damn flights of stairs.”

  She lifted her hand. “Such is life.” When she reached the first floor landing and stopped to take an audible breath, he’d had enough.

  “This is stupid,” he muttered, stopping her progress with one hand on her shoulder. He shoved the jacket he was carrying into her hands and slid his other arm under her legs. She tipped easily back into his arms and he lifted her up.

  “What are you doing?” Her screech echoed through the stairwell.

  “Just what it looks like.” He built custom sailing yachts. By hand. It wasn’t lightweight work, and she definitely was. Cradling her in his arms like a baby, he turned slightly so her feet wouldn’t scrape the block walls of the stairwell and began climbing. “Might help if you’d put your arm around my shoulder,” he suggested mildly. She was holding herself as stiff as a board. But heat was still radiating from her.

  She slowly slid her right arm around his shoulder. “This is completely unnecessary.”

  “I guess so if you wanted to spend the next hour climbing the stairs. Because at the rate you were going, that’s about how long it would take.” He gave her a little toss, adjusting his grip under her knees and probably enjoying the surprised gasp she let out more than he should.

  “This is mortifying,” she mumbled. “I’m too heavy for this.”

  He laughed outright at that. She was curvaceous as hell, but she was still small. “If you weigh more ’n one-ten, I’ll eat my hat.”

  “You’re not wearing a hat.” She sounded even grumpier, which made him want to smile.

  “Would I need to eat it if I were?”

  “It’s not polite to ask a woman what she weighs.”

  He stopped mid-step. Jiggled her once as if he were testing grapefruit at a store. “Standing by the one-ten,” he said and started up the steps again. “Maybe a pound or two less.” He wished it were a pound or two more. Carrying her the way he was
, he could feel the points of her hips and the ridges in her spine even more prominently than he had when they’d slept together. “You’re pregnant. You should be gaining weight. Not losing it.”

  “Like I need reminding.”

  Her head bumped against his chest as he turned on the next landing and started up to the third floor. They were halfway up before she finally spoke again.

  “They’ve really all been boys?”

  “First baby? Yup. So don’t bother thinking about any pretty little girl names. Be a total waste of time.”

  “Where’d your parents come up with the name Paxton?”

  “Some great-great something on my mom’s side had the last name of Paxton. For whatever reason, my folks liked it.”

  “You don’t?”

  He snorted softly. Only a few more steps now, and he was glad. Not because he was tired from carrying her—though a few flights of stairs with a woman in your arms was a workout, no matter how little she weighed—but because holding her this way was having a predictable effect. “When I was young, the other kids were tough on unusual names. I was Pox as often as I was Pax.”

  “Pox?”

  “I was in the third grade and had a case of chicken pox.”

  She covered her mouth to muffle her laugh.

  “Popped Erik in the mouth one time and we both got suspended.” He grinned at the memory. “He never called me Pox again, though.” They’d reached the top of the stairs and he stopped. “Push open the door, would you?”

  She obediently leaned over and pushed on the bar and they stepped through the doorway.

  The music that had vibrated through the hallway when they’d left earlier was now silent, but he could still hear sounds coming from each of the apartments as he carried Shea to her door and set her back on her feet. She unlocked the door with the key she fished out of her front jeans pocket, and he followed her inside.

  Even though he’d already had a brief preview, the interior of the place was still a surprise to him. It was so feminine.