Hot Zone: Hot Number Part 16

"Your parents are happily married, and so are your sisters. They all have kids and they obviously get through any problems together."

He tipped his head to one side. "What's your point?" he asked.

She struggled to find the words and decided just to state her thoughts no matter how personal they seemed. "I guess I'm wondering why, faced with all that, you fight so hard against settling down yourself ?"

He shook his head and let out a soft, s.e.xy, rumbling laugh. "I've asked myself the same question many times." He braced his hand on the top of the car and leaned his head against his shoulder. "Do you put a lot of stock in birth order?"

Interesting question, she thought. "A fair amount, I guess. I mean because I was the youngest, Annabelle felt she had to protect me most after our parents died. She took the brunt of the burden and shielded me from the possibility of foster care if Uncle Yank didn't want-to raise us. She was an adult way before her time."

"And I was the baby who never had to grow up," he said. "My sisters catered to me and mothered me. And I've been lucky in that everything I've wanted has come pretty easily." She immediately waved away his point. "You're known for your work ethic so I wouldn't say things came easily," she chided.

"I'm not saying I didn't work hard at my career but I had more lucky breaks than most." He shook his head and laughed, a self-deprecating sound that told Micki he'd given her original question way more previous thought than she'd given him credit for. "When everything goes your way, you get spoiled. I got spoiled. h.e.l.l, I am spoiled. I'm also petrified of losing everything I have," he admitted.

"So..."

"I work overtime to maintain the image, including the perception of the partying guy with no injuries and no weaknesses."

"And you think if you let yourself get involved with anyone who means something to you, you'll lose the one thing that means everything to you. Your career."

"I'm amazed you get it," he said, his tone filled with surprise and an almost reluctant admiration.

She glanced down at the sidewalk, scuffing the bottom of her shoes against the pavement. "I guess that's what comes from my spending a lifetime hanging around with professional jocks. I understand the world you deal in."

"We do have that world in common " he said gruffly.

Emotion emanated from him and shook her up inside because, although tonight had been about business, she somehow felt closer to him than she had before. Given the circ.u.mstances, closer unnerved her.

" But as much as I stand by my choices to keep my career going, I was a d.a.m.n idiot to get involved with a woman like Carole. She was a meaningless fling and now I may be tied to her for the rest of my life."

"Payback's a b.i.t.c.h," Micki said, forcing a chuckle.

But the pain in her heart wasn't at all amusing. Because, as he'd spoken, she'd realized that their time on the island was probably also a meaningless fling.

Suddenly he reached up and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. "You and I weren't the same as me and Carole" he said, reading her mind.

"I didn't think I was."

He shook his head. "Yeah, you did. And I can't say I gave you any reason to believe otherwise."

She forced a smile. "Not to worry, I know where we stand" "No, I don't think you do." He stared at her, his gaze compelling and enigmatic all at the same time. "Let me walk you inside?"

She shook her head. "I'm fine."

She watched the struggle inside him until finally he stepped back. "Okay then. I'll meet you outside the doctor's office tomorrow?"

She blinked, surprised. "The paternity test consultation? You don't need PR help for that."

"You're right. I don't. But I do need you by my side for moral support."

Micki groaned. "Damian..."

"Please." He met her gaze, his eyes imploring and his tone holding a desperate quality she couldn't resist "Sure." She heard herself agreeing, her stomach in knots over involving herself in something so personal.

He exhaled hard, obviously relieved. "Thank you. Again."

She forced a smile. She certainly couldn't say it was her pleasure.

"Sleep tight," he said in a husky voice.

She forced a smile. "You, too."

Later that night, alone in her bed, she didn't have to wonder why she felt so empty and alone.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

MICKI HAD A LONG DAY AHEAD of her and no time to come home in between meetings, work and the dinner party for Uncle Yank's birthday. With no alternative, she took the dress she'd bought for the occasion, zipped it into a garment bag and took it with her to work so she could change there. She arrived at the office by 7:00 a.m. to reschedule some appointments and leave a few notes for Amy before heading over to the doctor's office on Park Avenue to meet Damian.

She had knots in her stomach over the idea of discussing paternity tests and Damian's s.e.xual relationship with another woman. She understood his need to have someone there for support, but after thinking things over and over last night, she'd decided she wasn't the right person for the job.

She turned the corner and found Damian already standing outside the door, leaning against a black iron handrail. In his jeans and light blue Polo collared shirt, he was the s.e.xiest man on Park Avenue. In fact, he was one of the only men on this part of Park Avenue so early in the morning, which was a good thing because she didn't think she could handle this conversation in front of an audience.

"Thanks for coming," he said, walking toward her.

She gathered her courage as she launched right into the speech she'd prepared last night. "I completely understand you needing moral support and I want to be there for you. I really do. But this is just too much. I don't belong here and I'm really not comfortable sitting down with a doctor discussing how long ago you impregnated another woman." She forced the words out in a rush or she knew she'd never say them at all.

She was as much as admitting she had feelings for the man and that really wasn't something she'd ever wanted him to know. Not when he was incapable of reciprocating. "So now that you know how I feel, I can get back to the office."

Micki turned and started down the street, searching for the nearest taxi as she ran. She still hadn't made peace with her high heels and she wobbled more than once, turning her ankle painfully and destroying any hope she had for a dignified exit.

"Micki!" Damian called after her.

Thank goodness a yellow cab with its lights on rounded the corner. She waved. The car came to a screeching halt. At the same time she reached for the door, Damian caught up with her. She opened the door but he held it, preventing her from getting in.

"Micki, please. I just want to talk to you," he said, breathing heavily.

She swallowed but her throat was tight. "When I agreed to help you out I didn't know how hard it would be," she admitted, her heart pounding in her chest, proving her words with each heavy beat.

"I didn't realize either," he said softly, his breath warm against her neck.

"Hey lady, you getting in or not?" the cabdriver asked impatiently.

Micki turned to Damian whose gaze was soft and understanding. "Just sit in the waiting room and as soon as I'm finished, we'll talk"

Her head throbbed, her ankle hurt and her heart ached like mad. "I must be insane," she said more to herself than to Damian. She glanced at the cabbie through the open pa.s.senger's side window. "I'm sorry to have taken your time," she told him and slammed the door shut instead of getting inside.

"Thank you." Damian grabbed her hand and held on tight. "I already told you I can act like a spoiled son of a b.i.t.c.h sometimes." His lips turned upward in an embarra.s.sed grin but his relief at having stopped her exit was palpable.

"Yeah, you did." But for some reason she was still standing by his side. An hour later, he walked out of the doctor's office and insisted they grab a cup of coffee. She'd already touched base with Amy at the office and knew her 11:00 a.m. appointment had canceled, freeing up her time, so she agreed.

They settled into seats at Sara Beth's Kitchen and quickly placed their orders. Micki was grateful for the fresh, hot coffee but she wasn't much interested in her Danish.

Damian guzzled his caffeine, needing the fortification desperately. When he was finished, he placed his mug aside and met her gaze from across the small table. For several moments, he simply stared at her, unsure of what to say or where to begin.

He only knew he owed her an apology. Silence surrounded them and though it was morning-rush time, the restaurant was atypically quiet for a weekday. He'd brought her here because they had a lot to discuss and he didn't want to do it over the phone. Until she'd nearly bolted on him this morning, he hadn't realized how much he counted on her comforting presence and solid support.

In the instant she'd taken off down the street, he'd been forced to acknowledge that she was so much more than a friend who was holding his hand through a crisis. He didn't know how much more and at this moment he couldn't see the point in delving too deeply. He also didn't think she'd appreciate hearing he was coming to care for her deeply--not when another woman and her baby stood between them, as did his f.u.c.ked-up life and the career he was still trying desperately to hang on to.

He dragged his chair closer, moving so he sat directly beside her. His thigh brushed her bare leg and he savored the warmth of her body heat. "I'm sorry this has been so hard for you."

"Professionally it's the right way to handle things."

"But like you said, this morning's appointment wasn't at all a professional request."

She shook her head. "Never mind that Friends stand by friends."

His gut churned uncomfortably at her casual use of the word.

"So what exactly did the doctor say?" she asked.

Her question forced him to focus. "Are you sure you want to hear about it?"

She nodded slowly. "I didn't want to be there for the discussion. I can handle hearing the news from you."

"Basically he said there're three types of testing." He reached into his pocket for the brochure the doctor had given him and scanned the paper again so he could accurately explain. "Two are invasive and could be dangerous to the fetus. The last one is a simple blood test involving just the mother and potential father's blood samples. The lab extracts fetal blood cells from the mother's sample and compares the DNA to the potential father's. That would be me." He pressed his lips together, anger at himself welling up again, "When can it be done safely?"

He glanced at Micki, whose normally flushed skin had grown pale during this awkward conversation. "Any time after twelve weeks." Damian had already done the math. a.s.suming Carole had gotten pregnant their last time together in April, they were just approaching twelve weeks. "Which means we're pretty close to being able to do the test," he said, sparing Micki the details.

"I see. And how is Carole handling all this?" she asked, her voice tight as she unsuccessfully tried to withhold any emotion.

"I don't know," he said, gripping his coffee cup tighter in his hand. "I haven't been in touch with her."

"That's awful!"

He winced. "It's not as cold and callous as it seems." He glanced down, embarra.s.sed about what Micki must think of him. "At first I needed time to digest the news. I needed time to arrange things like this test. And I needed to deal with the idea of possibly being a father"

"And have you?" she asked.

He shrugged, uncertainty still rioting through him.

"I don't know. I can accept it if the test is positive. It's hard to deal with it when it's not even a reality yet."

"I understand that."

"But thanks to you I'm taking steps in the right direction and beginning to wrap my brain around it. On the way over this morning I called my lawyer to set up an appointment to put a trust fund together if the baby is mine." He looked into her blue eyes. "I needed to do all these things before I could go to Carole and discuss things coherently."

Micki exhaled slowly. "I can't imagine what this has been like for you. I know that you're in limbo with Carole and that you're worried about your career, and I know that you're taking a beating in the press--"

"The h.e.l.l with the press. This mess has taught me that the only opinions I care about are the ones held by the people I--" He'd been about to say love.

A word he never used or even thought about Sitting across from Micki, knowing his feelings for her were growing beyond simple desire or grat.i.tude, it unnerved him to do so now. "Are you okay?" Micki placed her hand over his.

To Damian it was like touching a match to a wick. His candle was on fire, he thought, holding back a laugh. Who'd have thought his feelings for this woman could lighten his mood and make him happy at a time when he felt like his life was strangling him?

Looking at her, her soft skin and moist lips, listening to her rea.s.sure him and tell him she believed he could handle things, he started to believe.

"Actually, I'm fine." Suddenly, his beeper went off, interrupting them.

"Excuse me." He checked the number and muttered a curse. "I was supposed to be at the stadium for an early workout." He'd completely blanked on his priorities--not a good sign.

"Someone's screwed," Micki said helpfully.

"Gee, thanks." Despite himself, Damian laughed. He was on his feet and tossing money onto the table in seconds.

They headed for the street together but when he tried to give her the first cab, she waved him away.

"I'm not going to take this one now and have you hand my head to me on a platter later. You take the first one." She swept her hand in a gallant gesture that had him laughing once again.

Before he got in the car, he turned to Micki. "One question. What made you stick around this morning and not just walk away?" He needed to know what held them together on her side of things.

She shifted from foot to foot before meeting his gaze. "You need me," she said simply, then pivoted to walk away.

It wasn't a declaration of love or even l.u.s.t .But it was an acknowledgment of a bond and the genuineness of those words meant more than he cared to think about.

Anyway, he had no time to linger, no time to waste. Acting on pure instinct, he pulled her close arid kissed her hard on the lips before sliding into the cab and slamming the door shut behind him.

The taxi sped away, leaving him alone with thoughts he didn't want to have. Panic over being late. Panic over Carole. Panic over losing Micki when this was all over.

Instead of thinking, he pulled out his cell phone and searched for Carole's number in Florida. Surely she was home or at least on her way by now. Thanks to Micki's reaction, he'd had a revelation, a feeling of what it might be like to be the one in Carole's shoes, uncertain of what life had in store. He certainly couldn't live with himself if he left Carole thinking she was in this alone. Her answering machine picked up on the second ring and after waiting through her recorded message, he said, "Hey, Carole, it's Damian. I know things can't be easy right now...umm... I'll be away on a seven-day road trip and then let's plan on getting together to talk when I get home. If you need anything in the meantime, you can reach me on my cell." He reiterated the number, though he was sure she knew it by heart, and hung up, feeling better for having checked on her.

He leaned back in the cab and shut his eyes. Just like at night, his thoughts overwhelmed him. In the deepest recesses of-his soul, Damian couldn't imagine fathering a child with Carole. He couldn't imagine the careful planning of his career exploding in his face now, when it was almost over. He still had a chance to go out on top and he didn't want to blow it.

He knew he was possibly the baby's father. But when he tried to do as Micki suggested and face the reality, to view this kid as his, the only child he could envision had blue eyes not brown and naturally blond curly hair, not the kind that came from a bottle.

Unwilling to follow that train of thought, he glanced at his watch. Dammit, he was so late.

To his, never-ending shock, he started to laugh. He'd never been late for a practice, let alone a game. He'd spent his entire career ensuring he remained focused on his goals. And now, when he was preoccupied and completely screwed up, when he ought to be p.i.s.sed as h.e.l.l at himself for every wrong move recently made, he felt lighter than he had in years.

MICKI LOCKED HER OFFICE DOOR and drew the shades on the gla.s.s windows that made her office visible from the hallway. She'd already freshened her makeup. She had about half an hour to change and make it to her uncle's annual birthday party at his favorite restaurant.

Annabelle was doing better and she'd gotten her doctor's permission to attend the party as long as she stayed off her feet while there and didn't overdo. They'd kept the invitations to a minimum this year, mostly family and a few friends...including Lola and Spencer Atkins.

Separately the two were Uncle Yank's closest friends, even if he and Lola were estranged at the moment, but as an item they were an explosive combination destined to incite Uncle Yank to riot. Micki groaned, knowing it was going to be an eventful night.