running high, Chuck and Shana had spent a week in bed together. A week that had apparently defied their odds and borne fruit. He had to be there for Shana and their child.
Dr. Harris opened his tablet again, scrolling through his notes. “While I wish we had known so we could have monitored the fetus, none of the medications she’s received should present a risk to the baby’s development. We’ll keep Shana another night for monitoring.”
Dr. Gibson said, “We’ll also do an ultrasound and start her on progesterone given her prior miscarriages.”
Chuck nodded, still reeling. A baby. She was two months along. She’d known and she hadn’t told him. Worse yet, she’d thrown him out without telling him she carried his child.
She’d probably realized that if she told him about the baby, it would have taken a force of nature to budge him from their house. He didn’t have the luxury of anger right now.
Dr. Gibson tilted his head, placing a hand on Chuck’s shoulder. “I realize this is difficult for you, too. You’ve both been waiting for this baby for so long, and these aren’t the circumstances anyone could have foreseen.” He gestured toward the door. “Perhaps seeing you will jog her memory.”
And therein lay his problem.
He didn’t want her to remember.
Because if she did?
Shana would walk, taking their baby with her.
* * *
Shana pushed herself up on the hospital bed, taking her time to be sure the room didn’t spin as it had the last time she’d tried. People were acting strange around her, and she wanted answers. Instead, she was stuck lying here alone with only a view of snow slamming down on the mountains.
Well, alone except for a nurse who’d been there since she’d woken up and hadn’t left her side, even when the doctors stopped by, doctors who’d been short of answers as to why she was here. Even her phone was missing and the remote control for the TV wasn’t working. The nurse said it would be fixed soon.
Shana touched her head, exploring her hairline. A small bandage was located just behind her ear. She’d been assured her long hair covered the shaved patch. The doctor had only told her she’d suffered a minor aneurysm, but that otherwise she was physically fine. Beyond that, they’d been cagey.
Thinking back, she tried to remember what had happened before she’d come to the hospital. The last thing she recalled was an argument with her mother over Shana’s refusal to reconcile with her father. Even thinking about the fight and her dad made her headache worse.
She knew avoidance when she heard it. Her work as a private detective had taught her all the signs. She also had a sixth sense for these things and trusted her gut.
Something was going on beyond what they’d told her.
Turning to the nurse, who was making updates on the dry-erase board in her room, Shana asked, “Excuse me? When will the doctor be back? I have questions.”
Being in limbo was scary. Her imagination was working overtime.
Just as the nurse opened her mouth to answer, a knock sounded and the door opened to admit a man. Not the doctor who’d been by to check her out when she’d woken. And even though it felt like a slew of staff had come through her room in the past half hour, she would have remembered this guy. He had an unforgettable face, movie-star quality in a rough-around-the-edges way. His light brown hair was just long enough to be mussed by a woman’s fingers, coarse hair that would rasp the skin.
A doctor? He didn’t have on a white coat. In fact, he was dressed more casually than any doctor she knew. He wore jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt that bore the wrinkles of someone who’d pulled a long shift. But his sea green eyes were what held her attention in an unbreakable grip. The colors shifted with the icy intensity of a winter sea.
What crazy thoughts to be having right now, but the tug of attraction made her feel normal on a day that was entirely too abnormal.
“I appreciate that you’re all being thorough, but I need to get in touch with my mother. I just want to call her, and no one will give me a phone.”
Or a remote control. Or a mirror. Or answers.
Okay, this was getting really weird.
Strangely, the nurse left the room. Physicians usually kept a nurse with them for exams. Although the door had been left open.
“Your mother is on her way. She should be here tomorrow.” He stopped by the bed, large hands grasping the bedrail.
Before she could help herself, she checked his ring finger and found...
A wedding band.
Disappointment cooled the attraction. So much for drooling over Mr. Cover Model. She pressed her fingers to her forehead. She should be focused on more serious matters rather than this sexy distraction.
“Which doctor are you?” She settled on the reasonable question, a thousand more zipping around in her fuzzy brain.
“You should rest,” he said evasively. “You’ve been through a lot. Your body needs to recharge.”
“Aren’t you a doctor?” She massaged her temple. “Or an occupational therapist? I can’t recall. There were so many people in the room when I woke up.”
“I’m not your doctor.”
A nervous skitter started up her spine, like something shifting behind a mist, just out of reach. “Remind me who you are?”
“My name is Chuck, and I’m going to get your doctor.” He backed up a step. “Things are...complicated.”
“Well, Chuck, I’ve had people checking me and asking questions, but no one has been answering mine.” Panic rose inside her. “Tell me what’s going on, or give me a phone to speak to my mother. Why are you keeping her from me?”
“Your mother is flying in.” He held up a calming, reassuring hand that somehow only made things worse. “She’s not available to talk yet.”
A pit formed deep in her belly. The walls bore down on her.
Nothing was as it seemed.
This place was starting to feel like a jail, except the private room full of high-tech equipment and flowers was far too posh for incarceration. She needed to get her life in order, call her mom, check in with her boss about her caseload and an upcoming court case she would be testifying in.
“Then I guess that leaves you or the doctor to tell me, because lying here waiting is most definitely stressing me out.” She swung her legs out from under the sheet.
The room spun.
Chuck rushed forward and clasped her arm. His touch was at once both steadying and unsettling.
Her gaze went back to that glinting wedding band. The spark of awareness made her feel ill. Married cheaters were the worst. Her father’s deceit had left a wake of devastation. The room started spinning again but in a different
