Читать книгу Vixen In Disguise - Kara Lennox, Kara Lennox - Страница 11

“Well, Anne, everything looks great,” Jeff Hardison said, closing the folder that held her chart. “Your weight’s almost back to normal, there’s no sign of infection, and you’ve even smiled at me once or twice.”

She appreciated his vote of confidence. Jeff had seen her at her worst, and it was partly due to his conscientious care that she was looking and feeling so much better. Not back to normal. She’d been broken and glued back together—she probably would never be exactly the same person she was before. But at least she was in one piece and moving forward.

“I’m feeling great,” she confirmed. “So why do we have to do the blood tests?”

“Anne, we’ve been over this.”

“But I’m not sure there’s really a point. I’d like to move forward, not dwell on the past.”

“This is looking forward,” he insisted. “If there’s a problem, it could affect your ability to have children in the future.”

“I don’t plan to have children.”

“You might change your mind. You’re only twenty-five.”

He had a point. For the next five to ten years she would not have the time to devote to raising a family. Her law career would demand 100 percent of her concentration. If she had a husband, kids, they would only end up neglected—and what was the point in that?

But once she was established, once she’d paid her dues, she might want to switch gears. She wasn’t dumb enough to believe a career could answer all of her needs.

“All right. Might as well get it over with.”

“I’ll have Molly draw the blood. She’s so gentle, it’ll feel like a butterfly kiss.”

“Yeah, right.” Anne laughed despite her concerns.

“It’s good to hear you laugh. Keep it up, huh?” In a treatment room a few minutes later, Anne determinedly studied a spot on the wall while Molly, Jeff’s nurse, deftly inserted a needle into Anne’s arm. As long as she didn’t look at the needle or see the blood, she would be okay. At least, that was what she told herself.

She’d put off her follow-up visit to Jeff for several days, until Jeff himself had called the house and reminded her. Even knowing he wanted her blood, she hadn’t been able to come up with a graceful excuse. So here she was, letting Molly torture her.

“They’re having a sale over at Hollywood Lingerie,” Molly said, continuing her nonstop monologue. Anne didn’t know if Molly’s chatter was designed to distract patients from the procedure or if she just liked to talk, but it did help.

“I’ve never been there,” Anne made herself answer. “What kind of stuff do they have? Ouch.”

“Sorry. Well, a lot of real naughty stuff, that’s what. Negligees with cutouts in places you just can’t believe, and panties so sheer you might as well not be wearing any.”

Anne didn’t own any sexy lingerie. She’d been raised in practical white cotton, which her mother insisted was the only sort of underwear a real lady would wear. In college she’d branched out to pastels, but that was as wild as she’d gotten.

She’d never thought much about it until her weekend with Wade. She’d been wearing all those provocative outer clothes, which Wade had taken a great deal of pleasure in removing. But then came her underwear—they were so dull! They didn’t fit the Annie image at all.

“My Tom can be the most boring man in the world,” Molly went on, “but show him a pair of black lace panties and he turns into Casanova.”

“So you actually wear that stuff?”

“Honey, nothing makes you feel sexier. And I’m telling you, men can sense it when you’re wearing a hot-pink teddy, even if you have all your clothes on. Sexy underwear gives you an attitude.”

“Maybe I’ll stop by and take a look.” Her mother would have a conniption if she found hot-pink anything in the laundry. Then again, Deborah didn’t do the laundry—she had a housekeeper for that.

Ordinarily Anne wouldn’t worry so much about upsetting her parents. But the past couple of months had shaken both of them to their foundations. She had promised herself she would make it up to them by being their ideal daughter, at least while she was living under their roof.

“All done,” Molly said, pressing a cotton ball to the inside of Anne’s arm, then folding the arm to hold the cotton tight against her traumatized vein. “That wasn’t so bad.”

“Not for you,” Anne quipped.

“Dr. Jeff wants to see you again before you leave. Let me see if I can catch him between patients, and I’ll send him in. Now, you just drink that orange juice and rest.”

Molly left with a whole trayful of blood-filled test tubes. The sight of all that red made Anne light-headed, so she was happy to sit still for a few minutes and recover from the ordeal. She wondered why Jeff wanted to see her again. Hadn’t they covered all the territory?

Almost immediately someone tapped discreetly on the treatment-room door.

“Come in,” Anne called.

Jeff entered, looking tall and reassuring in his white coat. “I see you survived. A butterfly kiss, was I right?”

“Molly is a charming little vampire. Was there something else?”

“I’m heading next door for coffee. You want to come?”

“Sure, I could use a coffee.”

Jeff took off his white coat, stashed it in his office, then led Anne past the receptionist with a wave. “Back in a few.”

They walked next door to a little take-out café that served coffee and bagels and not much else. With cappuccinos in hand, they settled at a little table in the corner.

“Your mother tells me you haven’t been getting out much,” Jeff mentioned casually.

“Mmm, too busy.” She took a sip of the rich coffee drink. Heaven.

“You know that’s not healthy, right? I’m asking as a friend, not your doctor. Physically you’re recovering nicely, but I’m a little worried about your mood.”

“Oh, Jeff, don’t be silly. I’m okay. You heard me laugh a few minutes ago, remember?”

“I’m serious. I know you’ve been hurt recently, and it takes time to get over that. But I don’t want you to dwell on it.”

Jeff assumed she’d been dumped by the baby’s father, and she hadn’t set him straight. He had no idea she and Wade even knew each other outside their brief, childhood acquaintance—and she wanted to keep it that way.

“The best tonic for a broken heart,” he continued, “is to just get right back out there, you know, come up swinging. It’s like falling off a horse. You want to get right back on before you build the fear up in your head so much that you can never—”

“Jeff, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying, why don’t we go to a movie or something?”

“You’re kidding.” Realizing how rude she sounded, she quickly backpedaled. “I mean, oh, Jeff, that’s really sweet. I’m so flattered, I mean…” What did she mean? This was so weird, so unexpected. Jeff was considered the town catch. Every single woman in town had made a play for him at one time or another. Why would he make a play for her, the town brain? She’d never been anything to him except a little sister—and a patient.

“You can change to being Dad’s patient, if you’re uneasy about dating your doctor,” he said, as if reading her mind. “Dad would welcome you back.”

“I’m not ready to date,” she said, in no uncertain terms. “Anyway, I’m so busy…” Oh, did that sound lame. “In a few weeks I’ll be taking a job in another city. It wouldn’t make sense for us to…start anything.”

He flashed her his most winning smile. “I’m talking about dinner and a movie, not some great love affair.”

At some other time in her life, she might be tempted. Jeff was movie-star handsome, charming and a good friend. But not now. She just couldn’t wrap her mind around dating, even a casual evening.

“Oookay, I get the picture,” he said when she didn’t respond. “How ‘bout them Cowboys, huh?” He drained his coffee in one gulp, then flashed a grin, letting her know she hadn’t wounded him too seriously.

“I appreciate your concern, I really do. And if my parents start driving me crazy, maybe I’ll call you and we can go to a movie.”

He nodded, seeming to understand. “Deal.”

She stood up, grabbed her purse.

“I’ll call when we get the test results back,” he said, as if their previous conversation had never happened. “It could take a while.”

“Okay, no problem.” She headed for the café door, in desperate need of fresh air. “Bye, now.”

But a hasty escape wasn’t in the cards. As she exited, she ran smack into Edward, Jeff and Wade’s father.

“Whoa, there, what’s your hurry?” he said with a laugh, steadying Anne.

She’d always adored Edward Hardison, or Dr. Ed, as most people called him. With his silver hair and his round, jovial face, he’d always seemed very safe to her, a safe person to take care of her health. But when she’d realized she was pregnant, she’d deliberately made an appointment with Jeff, not his father. The idea of kindly Dr. Ed knowing such a dark secret about her hadn’t seemed right. It would have been like telling her father all over again.

Of course, in the end, Edward had found out. As luck would have it, he was taking calls for Jeff when Anne had lost the baby. He’d been just as kind and sympathetic as Jeff, in no way judgmental.

She murmured a greeting, then something about having an appointment, and got out of there, Jeff’s invitation still burning in her brain.

She felt badly that she hadn’t handled things better. Fending off handsome men wasn’t exactly her forte. In fact, she’d seldom had to fend off men at all, handsome or not. Now, in the span of just a few days, she’d turned down two.

She wasn’t terribly pretty. She’d learned that lesson well in her teenage years. Skinny, freckled redheads weren’t the stuff of any man’s dreams. She’d compensated by being the class brain, the one with the quick wit and the acid tongue. She’d played down her femininity, believing her intelligence would take her a lot further than batting her eyelashes and showing cleavage.

That was before Annie. When she’d adopted her alter ego, she’d tapped into a well of femininity she hadn’t known existed. And though after her weekend with Wade she’d gone back to her conservative clothes and no-nonsense manner, maybe, just maybe, some essence of Annie remained.

Why else would Jeff suddenly take an interest, even a casual one, in her?

The idea that Annie might be peeking through Anne’s hard-fought control both thrilled and frightened her.

She didn’t feel like going home, even though she had a stack of applications to fill out and a list of follow-up phone calls to make. Her father had helped her put together an exhaustive list of every large, prestigious law firm in the country. A few of them had already approached her, but Milton had insisted she leave no stone unturned. He didn’t want her to miss her golden opportunity simply because she hadn’t been thorough enough.

He’d also encouraged her not to jump to any decisions.

Anne had followed his advice to the letter. Right after graduating, she’d gone on several interviews with the firms who had courted her. Despite a few very attractive offers, she’d put them all on ice while she explored other possible options.

Then she’d found out she was pregnant, and all bets were off.

Predictably, her mother had cried and her father had ranted and raved. Anne had simply become paralyzed. The life of an associate in a huge law firm was not compatible with single motherhood. She would end up shortchanging both her employer and her child—and there was never any question about her keeping the child. She’d put all her career plans on hold and focused on preparing for a baby.

She had tried halfheartedly to locate Wade, figuring he had a right to know. But at that time he’d been moving around so much he was impossible to pin down. She’d left a message here and there, but if he’d gotten them, he hadn’t responded.

Then she’d lost the baby, and her whole world had turned inside out—again. She hadn’t thought it possible to love a child so much when she hadn’t even met it. Having the baby ripped from her so cruelly had left her crushed and aching, physically and emotionally.

She’d seen no point in sharing that pain with Wade. She still didn’t.

Now, one month after the miscarriage, she was pouring herself into the job search once again. Milton was smiling again. Her world felt a bit more sane. And she knew that soon she would regain the sense of anticipation she’d always had about carving out her own name in the big bad world of lawyers.

Still, the prospect of job hunting seemed decidedly unattractive on a beautiful, Indian Summer day like today. Instead she drove to Hollywood Lingerie and bought two bra-and-panty sets, a black silk camisole and tap pants, and a slinky, midnight-blue nightgown.

A huge garden center was just down the way from Hollywood Lingerie, which inspired Anne to think about a fall garden. Her mother had been talking about pansies and impatiens, and the store beckoned with flats and flats of those very flowers.

Anne took her time picking out the colors, mentally designing the flower beds in front of the house.

“If I’d known all it took was some flowers to make you smile, I’d have got you a truckload.”

“Wade?” Oh, for heaven’s sake, what was Wade Hardison doing at a garden center? But here he was, big as life, standing in front of her, smiling in that lazy, easy way of his, as if they ran into each other on the street every day.

Even more surprising were Wade’s companions, a little boy about seven and a girl, maybe four or five. She recognized them as Sam and Kristin, Jonathan Hardison’s two kids.

Putting aside her lingering pique over her and Wade’s last meeting, she smiled at both children. “Who do we have here? Don’t tell me that’s Sam and Kristin. They’re too big to be Sam and Kristin.”

The little girl hid her face against Wade’s jean-clad leg.

Anne’s heart fluttered dangerously. Lately she couldn’t look at a child without thinking of the one she lost, but right now she couldn’t afford to be maudlin. She ruthlessly pushed aside the thought of her own baby.

“C’mon, you guys remember me, right?” Anne cajoled. “I was at your house on the Fourth of July. I’m Anne.”

“Kids, say hi to Annie,” Wade prompted.

Anne gave him a sharp look.

“Uh, Anne. Her name’s Anne.”

“I ‘member you, Anne. We’re making a terrarium for our frogs,” Sam said proudly, pulling a jar from their shopping cart, which also held several small green plants and some decorative rocks. He extended the jar for Anne’s inspection. Inside the jar, which contained a little moist dirt, were two of the tiniest frogs she had ever seen, no bigger than the end of her finger.

“Oh, aren’t they cute,” she said, taking the jar and holding it up to the light. “I had a pet frog once.”

“We caught ‘em as tadpoles,” Sam said, “and they took all summer to grow legs. Now they need a better home.”

“Do these frogs have names?” Anne asked.

“Mine’s Alexander the Great,” Sam said. “And mine’s Miss Pooh Bear,” Kristin piped in, apparently having overcome her shyness. “Do you have a boo-boo?” She pointed to the Band-Aid on Anne’s inner arm.

“Just a little one. Thank you for asking, Kristin.”

Wade wasn’t satisfied with her answer. “I haven’t noticed the Bloodmobile around town.”

“Ah, no, I have your brother to blame for this.”

Wade rolled his eyes. “Jeff and his needles. You’re not sick, are you?”

Anne waved away his concern, hoping she did a good job of sounding nonchalant. “No, of course not. Just a routine blood test.”

“What for?”

“Nosy, aren’t we? Jeff is checking to see whether I have two X chromosomes,” she answered without missing a beat. “You know, since I’m so—” she lowered her voice “—defeminized.”

“Oh, come on, Anne, don’t hold that against me. It was a moment of desperation.”

“Of course I’m holding it against you. What else would you expect from an uptight, frowning—”

“Okay, okay, I get the point. I’m sorry. I was way out of line. You don’t look at all defeminized today.”

She felt idiotically pleased by the compliment. She was just wearing a pair of jeans and short-sleeved cashmere sweater, but it had to look better on her than that potato-sack jumper she’d worn to Autumn Daze. She turned away and pretended interest in a potting-soil display.

“Looks like you’re planning quite a gardening project,” Wade said.

“They’re for my mother.”

“Hey, what’s in there?” Kristin asked, pointing to Anne’s shopping cart. To her mortification, the child was pointing to her Hollywood Lingerie bag, which was pink and sparkly and naturally attractive to a five-year-old girl.

“Yeah, I’d like to know that, too,” Wade said with a wink.

Busted. Why hadn’t she put the bag in her trunk before shopping for flowers? Didn’t she know what kind of speculation she might invite, carrying around a bag like that?

“Socks,” she finally said, her voice coming out sounding strangled. “They were on sale.”

She could tell Wade didn’t believe her, and she hoped the rush of heated blood through her veins didn’t reveal itself in a blush. He would have to pry that bag out of her cold dead hands before she would admit what was in there.

“I’ve really got to get home,” she said, turning her basket toward the checkout lanes.

“No time to chat with an old friend?” His voice was like warm honey—not his normal voice, which was pleasant enough, deep and smooth and sort of musical, but the voice he used in seduction mode.

Their gazes locked, and the store background noises receded, replaced by the roar of Anne’s blood in her ears. She could kiss him right here, right in the middle of Garden City. What was wrong with her? Why did all her powers of discretion and common sense disintegrate around Wade?

He ran one finger up her arm, which answered her question. She cast a nervous glance at the kids, but their attention had been captured by a giant plastic ant guarding a display of insecticides.

Did she just imagine the way his eyes seemed to change from ordinary brown to dark chocolate when he looked at her? Maybe she was reading way more into his gesture than he intended.

She took one step back. “Cut it out, Wade.”

“No one’s looking at us.”

“Can I be any clearer? I do not want to—” She realized both children had turned and were staring at her, fascinated with whatever she was about to say.

“Careful,” Wade said. “Little pitchers…”

“You know what I don’t want.”

“I know what you do want. And you want it bad.”

Anne was sure her face was bright pink as she took her turn with the cashier. The worst part of it was, he was right. She did want it. But all of her objections to renewing her relationship with Wade still held firm. He’d been perfect for slam-bam Annie, but the real Anne was more fragile. She didn’t want to be hurt. Besides, he’d be gone soon and so would she.

She quickly paid for her flowers, said a hasty goodbye to the children, pointedly ignored Wade and made her escape.

Under some other circumstances, perhaps, she would take Wade up on his offer. She liked him, liked him more each time she saw him, even when he played cat and mouse with her. She liked how devoted he was to his horse—he treated Traveler more like a pampered lapdog than working livestock. She was surprised by his ease with the children. They were perfectly comfortable with him, and he obviously had a soft spot for them.

Just as his initial impressions of her were wrong, maybe he wasn’t the one-dimensional rodeo Romeo she’d pegged him as.

Well, it was a moot point now.

When Anne arrived home, Deborah was thrilled to see the flowers. “I’ve completely neglected the yard for months,” she said as she helped unload the Mus-tang’s trunk, and Anne felt a little twinge of guilt. The only reason her mother had neglected anything was because she’d focused her entire existence on Anne and her dilemma. “These are perfect. Will you help me plant them?”

“She’s got work to do,” Milton interjected.

“But, Milton,” Deborah objected, “she needs to get more fresh air and sunshine.”

“She’ll get plenty of that tomorrow.”

“What’s tomorrow?” Anne wanted to know.

“A barbecue—at the Hardisons’. It’s for Pete’s eightieth birthday. Don’t tell me I forgot to tell you.”

“Yes, you did. I don’t think I can make it,” Anne said automatically. The last people she wanted to be around were the Hardisons, particularly Jeff or Wade.

“But you have to, dear. Pete Hardison hasn’t seen you since last Christmas, and you know you’re one of his favorites. His feelings would be hurt if you skipped his birthday party.”

Deborah was right. “Grandpa Pete,” as she called him, had doted on her when her family had first moved to Cottonwood. He’d never had a daughter or granddaughter of his own, so he’d informally adopted Anne.

“Will the whole family be there?” Anne asked.

“I assume so. Even Wade. I don’t know if you heard or not, but he’s back home.”

Anne jumped, but as her mother grabbed a flat of plants and set them on the garage floor, she seemed to assign no particular significance to dropping Wade’s name.

“You remember him, don’t you?” Deborah carried on chattily. “He ran away when he was sixteen, ran off and joined the circus or something. You were just a little girl. Anyway, he’s come back, the proverbial prodigal son.”

“Yes, I remember him.” In far too much detail. Deborah turned back to Anne. “How was your checkup, anyway?”

“Fine.” She hadn’t told her parents about the blood tests. It wasn’t something they needed to know at this stage in their lives. With any luck, they’d never have to know.

“Anne, what’s this?” Deborah held up a tiny, green plastic pot with a sprig of ivy. One of the Hardison clan’s terrarium plants had apparently migrated into her cart.

Anne shrugged. “An impulse purchase.” Once again, she felt her traitorous face heating.

“I’ve got at least a dozen ivy plants rooting in the sunroom.”

Anne forced a smile. “I said it was an impulse. I didn’t say it was smart.”

ANNE MANAGED to put Wade out of her mind for most of the rest of the day by keeping really busy. That night, after all the gardening and phone calls and applications, she was so exhausted she fell immediately into a deep, dreamless sleep.

At precisely 3:00 a.m. she sat bolt-upright in bed with the most disturbing thoughts. Wade and those kids…

When she’d found out she was pregnant, she’d thought a lot about how she would break the news to Wade. In her imaginings, the conversation was always hideous:

“Wade, I don’t know how this happened, but I’m going to have your baby.”

“No way. That’s impossible. We were careful.”

“Not careful enough, apparently. There was that first time…”

“How do you know it’s mine?”

“Because you’re the only guy I’ve slept with in the past year.”

“Like I believe that.”

“I don’t want anything from you. I just thought you should know.”

“Yeah, well, you’ve done your civic duty.” Click.

She had no real reason to believe he would treat her like that, but she hadn’t had any trouble imagining how a guy like Wade would feel about fatherhood. Nightmare city. He didn’t even have a permanent address, owned nothing but his horse, truck, trailer and the clothes on his back. Obviously, he had no desire to be tied down.

After she’d lost the baby, her mother had tried to comfort her by saying the miscarriage was probably for the best, that a child should grow up with two parents. Anne had forced herself to agree, outwardly at least, to keep the peace. She’d even allowed herself some degree of relief because now she wouldn’t have to track down Wade and tell him he was going to be a father.

But that was before she’d seen him with Sam and Kristin. He was good with them. He obviously thought they hung the stars. Maybe he even fantasized about having kids of his own one day. And they adored him. Contrary to all her preconceived ideas, Wade Hardison might make a pretty good father.

And she’d lost his baby.

Anne was ashamed she hadn’t even given him a chance to prove what kind of father he could be. But now it was too late.