she had gone from euphoria to the depths of despair.
Dillon could not even imagine how she must feel. His own grief was a crushing, hollow ache in his chest, as though someone had cut out his heart with a dull knife. He didn’t know which was worse—the pain of losing his brother, or the anger that threatened to consume him.
A tiny muscle rippled in Dillon’s cheek as his jaw clenched tighter. Damn you, Keith. Damn you! How could you do this to her?
His heart pounded against his ribs, but it was only when the rattle of china drew his gaze downward that he realized he was shaking with fury. He stared at the cup, dancing in its saucer, the quivering, shiny surface of the coffee that he hadn’t touched, surprised that he still held it.
“You’re Keith’s brother, aren’t you?”
Dillon looked up from placing the cup on the grand piano and found himself facing a slender man in his late thirties. His face was vaguely familiar. An instant later Dillon recognized him as one of the partners in the medical group where Keith had practiced.
The man stuck out his hand. “I’m Dr. Garrett Conn, one of Keith’s partners. We met once, several years ago, but you probably don’t remember me. I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am for your loss.”
Shaking the doctor’s hand, Dillon murmured the expected thanks, but that was all. The man had kind eyes and there was compassion in his voice and expression, but Dillon remained wary. If Dr. Conn was hoping to get the sordid details from him he was barking up the wrong tree.
“Your brother was an excellent physician. Our practice won’t be the same without him. He’ll be sorely missed.” Dr. Conn folded his mouth into a thin line and shook his head. “Such a waste.”
He paused, as though waiting for a response, but Dillon merely fixed him with a level stare. After a moment the doctor went on. “I suppose, being as you’re Keith’s older brother, you’ll be looking after Emily now?”
Dillon’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you ask?”
A wry smile twisted the other man’s mouth. “Keith always said you were an intimidating bastard. Relax. I’m not trying to pump you for information, if that’s what you think. Your brother’s affairs don’t interest me. I leave that sort of tittle-tattle to others,” he said with a nod toward a group of people on the other side of the room. “I approached you because Emily is my patient, and I’m worried about her.”
The statement had no effect on Dillon’s stern expression. “Emily’s doctor is Frank Young,” he challenged. He knew that because the whole family went to Dr. Young.
“Yes, Frank is the G.P. in our practice. My specialty is gynecology and obstetrics.”
Dillon tensed. He shot a sharp glance at Emily, then swung back to Dr. Conn. “Is there a problem with the baby?”
The doctor’s eyes widened. “You know about that?”
“Yes. Keith told me.”
“I see. Actually, that’s a relief. I wasn’t sure that he and Emily had shared the news with anyone. Now at least I don’t have to worry about betraying doctor-patient confidentiality.”
“You didn’t answer my question. Is there a problem?”
“It’s too soon to tell. The in vitro was performed only last week and the pregnancy confirmed three days ago—just hours before Keith died in that fire. But I have to tell you, the shock of his death, particularly given the circumstances, has put an enormous strain on Emily, and that’s never good.”
“Are you saying she could lose the baby?”
“After emotional trauma like that it’s certainly possible. I talked to her earlier, and she says she’s okay, but I’m concerned. She’s strung tighter than a fiddle string and too pale by far. Has she mentioned having any problems?”
“No. At least, not to me.” But then, he’d be the last person Emily would turn to for help, especially with something as personal as that. She avoided him whenever she could. “Actually, I don’t think she’s told anyone she’s pregnant. I doubt she even knows that Keith told me.”
Keith had called him from his car phone that night. God, had it been only seventy-two hours ago? His brother had said that he was on the way to the hospital to see a patient, but in reality he’d been heading to meet up with his mistress.
Typical, Dillon thought with disgust. Instead of sharing the joy of impending parenthood with his wife, his faithless brother had chosen to celebrate by tearing up the sheets with his latest girlfriend.
“Mmm.” Dr. Conn studied Emily from across the room. “It would be a good idea if someone stayed with her, at least for the next few days until she gets over the initial shock.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll see to it.”
“Good, good. Tell her if she experiences so much as a twinge to call me, day or night.” He gave Dillon a sympathetic smile. “Look, I just want you to know that despite his faults, I truly liked your brother. He was a good doctor and a good friend. I know this is a terrible time for you and your family. If there’s anything I can do to help—anything at all—just let me know.”
“If you really mean that, how about nudging your friends toward the door,” Dillon said, nodding toward the clutch of people on the other side of the room. “Emily’s had a rough couple of days. She needs to rest.” And she needs a chance to lick her wounds in private, he added silently.
Dr. Conn chuckled. “I’ll see what I can do.”
When the doctor walked away Dillon’s gaze zeroed in on Emily again, a new worry niggling at him. Why hadn’t she told anyone about the baby? He’d been waiting for her to mention her condition ever since the night of Keith’s death, but she hadn’t said a word.
He studied her delicate profile, her blank expression. What are you feeling? he wondered. Anger? Hurt? Humiliation? Grief?
Hell, she had to be feeling all those things and more, he decided. And who could blame her? Well…who besides Adele, at any rate? His mother always blamed others for Keith’s mistakes and shortcomings.
But what about the new life inside her? How did Emily feel about the baby now? She had wanted a child so badly, and had gone to extreme lengths to conceive. However, now Keith was gone and she’d had her blinders ripped off in the cruelest way possible. Now that she’d learned just what a louse of a husband he’d truly been, did she regret the pregnancy?
Oh, hell, did she want to end it?
Worse, if she had the baby would she resent him or her and reject the child?
As his mother rejected him?
Reluctantly, Dillon’s gaze switched to his mother. Adele Maguire and Dillon’s sister Charlotte, and her husband, Roger Boyd, sat on the sofa opposite the one Emily occupied. Clinging to her daughter for support, Adele wailed and wept bitterly and ignored Emily.
Dillon’s mouth curled. As far as Adele was concerned, no one, not even Keith’s widow, could possibly be experiencing the pain and loss that she felt over his death.
The prospect
