she stared at him, her vision closed in from the sides and she suddenly couldn’t draw a breath. She saw Chance start toward her, heard him call her name. But his voice sounded like an echo from a great distance. And when the tunnel closed in around her, the fog of unconsciousness became an escape too appealing for her to resist.
Chance watched Kristen’s cheeks color a deep rose, while the rest of her face bleached pure white. She swayed once, then wilted.
“Kristen!” Alarmed, he stepped forward and caught her at the same moment her knees gave way.
“Aw, hell,” he muttered, swinging her up into his arms. He hadn’t expected her to be any happier about the turn of events than he was. But he hadn’t figured she’d find the circumstances so appalling that she’d faint dead away.
He carried her to the bed, trying not to notice the enticing amount of breast visible through the parting in her robe or the feel of her soft body pressed to his chest. Married or not, they were still no more than social acquaintances. He could pretty much guess how she’d react if she came to and found him ogling her like a teenager looking at his first girlie magazine.
When he placed her on the bed, her robe gaped open even further, and not one, but two perfect breasts were exposed to his appreciative gaze. The air in his lungs rushed out in one big whoosh and his body tightened.
Chance closed his eyes and gallantly tried to concentrate on the unappealing task of digging a ditch—hard, back-breaking work that would exhaust a man and effectively wipe away all erotic thoughts.
It didn’t help.
He had a sneaking suspicion he could shovel a crater the size of the Grand Canyon and still not erase the memory of Kristen’s satiny, smooth skin against his palms, the feel of the dark coral tips begging for his attention.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
He had to regain control of his traitorous body. Several very important decisions had to be made. And damned quick. He didn’t want, or need, the added complication of Kristen waking up to find him in an undeniable state of arousal. That sure as shootin’ wouldn’t help speed their conversation along.
Chance took another deep breath, opened his eyes and, with shaky hands, reached out to grasp the terry-cloth lapels and pull the robe together. He ground his teeth when his fingers brushed the silky slopes of her breasts. Turning, he rushed into the bathroom.
The cold water he splashed over his face brought back some of his sanity, and with it, a heavy dose of reality. He’d spent the night making love to his wife, and he’d lay money on the probability they hadn’t bothered using protection.
Stunned, he raised his gaze to stare at himself in the mirror. “Good Lord, what if she’s pregnant?”
Two
Chance leaned back to glance around the bathroom door at the unconscious woman—his wife—lying on the bed. Had pregnancy been the reason Kristen fainted? Would a side effect like this show up that fast?
Hell, how would I know? He tried to concentrate, but his head still throbbed from the champagne and he didn’t have any hands-on experience with this type of thing, anyway.
His sister, Beth, had passed out once while she was pregnant with her daughter, Annie. But he’d been out on the rodeo circuit with his stock company and only heard about the incident later. The only other pregnant females he’d ever been around were of the four-legged variety. He’d never seen or heard of a cow or mare passing out during gestation.
Reaching for a washcloth, he shook his head. Gently. He had no idea if pregnancy could be the reason for Kristen’s fainting, but he for damned sure intended to find out.
He dampened the cloth with cool water, then headed straight for the phone beside the bed. Shrugging out of his jacket, he sat down on the bed beside Kristen and dialed the front desk. He bathed her face with the cloth while he waited for the hotel operator to pick up.
What seemed like an eternity later, a woman answered.
“I need the address of the nearest hospital,” he said, trying to be patient despite the desperation clawing at his insides.
“Is this an emergency, sir?” the woman asked, her voice efficient. “Do you need an ambulance?”
His gut instinct told him Kristen wouldn’t appreciate the added attention being hauled out on a stretcher would bring to their situation. “No, that won’t be necessary.” He laid the cool, damp cloth on Kristen’s forehead. “My wife fainted. As soon as she’s feeling strong enough, I’ll take her myself.”
When the woman rattled off the street name of the closest emergency clinic, Chance jotted down the information on a pad of paper he found on top of the nightstand. Hanging up the phone, he frowned as he ran the cloth over Kristen’s pale cheeks. He couldn’t believe how easily the word wife had rolled off his tongue. Damned if it hadn’t felt almost natural.
Kristen stirred and murmured his name.
Taking her hand in his, Chance marveled at how small and fragile it felt. “I’m right here.”
She opened her eyes and blinked. “Oh, no. It wasn’t a dream.”
He tried his best to give her an encouraging smile. “Afraid not, sweetheart.” He brushed an auburn strand of hair from her damp cheek. “When you’re feeling stronger, I’ll take you to see a doctor.”
She closed her eyes. “I don’t need a doctor.”
“Yes, you do,” he said firmly. He wasn’t quite sure how to phrase his next question, so he took a deep breath, thanked God she wasn’t looking at him and asked straight out. “Are you on any kind of birth control?”
Her eyes snapped open. “That’s none of your business.”
When she tried to sit up, he put his hand on her shoulder to keep her from rising. “Yes, it is.” He tried to be as tactful as possible, but some things couldn’t be sugar-coated. “We just spent an entire night making love, Kristen. If you aren’t on some type of preventive, there’s a very real possibility that you might be pregnant.”
She sucked in a sharp breath and her eyes widened. “Maybe nothing happened,” she said, hope filling her expressive green gaze.
Chance swallowed hard. Although the memories he had of last night weren’t clear by a long shot, and he had several blank spots about exactly what had taken place, his body told him he knew this woman in every sense of the word.
“Trust me, sweetheart,” he said, unable to keep the knowing grin from his face. “It happened, all right. And more than once or twice.”
Her cheeks colored a pretty pink. Amazing. He hadn’t seen a woman blush in years.
“No, I’m not taking anything for birth control.” He watched her fidget with the robe’s belt, her attention devoted to rolling the end around her index finger.
Was it possible the ice maiden was embarrassed?
She continued to focus on the terry-cloth belt. “There hasn’t been a reason.”
“So
