Hot Zone: Hot Number Part 23

"I'm the same guy who called the press about your pregnancy, remember? Don't go painting me with some angelic brush, okay? We're alike. We'll be fine."

"This baby could have been Damian's " she reminded him and turned away, obviously not wanting to face him.

He grabbed her arm gently and turned her around. "That was the past. We're looking to the future now. And I love you."

She shook her head. "You're the dad, Carter. Let's not push our luck and try to make ourselves into some big love story, okay? Neither one of us has done anything to deserve a happily-ever-after."

Rick cupped her cheek in his hand. "That's where you're wrong. We created this baby. That's the beginning of a new life. Hers...and ours." But even as he spoke, Carter knew Carole was far from believing in him, in them or in their future.

NOT HIS KID. What had been the sole focus of Damian's life for weeks now suddenly had nothing to do with him. Damian wasn't sure how long he spent on the streets of Manhattan, dazed and confused by the news. Considering how fortunate he'd been in life up until now, he sure as h.e.l.l hadn't expected to be sitting under a horseshoe when the test results had come in. He'd gotten lucky.

So why didn't he one hundred percent feel that way? Instead of the pure elation he should have been experiencing, Damian felt empty, almost as if a void existed where fear had once lived and breathed. d.a.m.ned if he understood his reaction and he walked miles to sort through his emotions.

He glanced up at the familiar face of the building he stood in front of. Somehow during his walking and reflecting, he found himself outside the Hot Zone offices. Micki had been ducking his calls since before the charity event and he'd deliberately given her s.p.a.ce after. He hoped with the baby mess behind him, they could go back to being...what? Friends? Lovers? Damian shook his head. Like everything else right now, he figured the answers would come.

A glance at his watch told him Micki would be at work and he headed inside to share the news. He bypa.s.sed the receptionist and headed to her office, stopping at her secretary's desk.

"How's it going?" he asked the woman who'd come to know him pretty well from his visits.

"See for yourself." She gestured toward the partially open door.

He glanced inside but didn't let Micki know he was watching.

"Come." Micki pulled on the dog's leash but the pooch remained stubbornly committed to her current position.

The dog lay on her back, spread-eagle on the floor.

"You spoiled, pampered mutt!" Micki growled in frustration. "I will not rub your belly every time I want you to listen to me. It took me fifteen minutes of ma.s.saging just to get you out of the apartment to p.o.o.p this morning and another twenty to get you to leave with me to go to work!"

Damian chuckled. "Isn't that just like a lady? Give a hand and next time she'll take the whole arm."

Micki glanced up, startled. Once the shock evaporated, a warm glow of appreciation spread across her face. It was definitely a look that said it's nice to see you, Damian thought. The feeling was definitely mutual.

"Apparently Noodle's from the upper, spoiled cla.s.s."

He chuckled. "Either that or she's just missing your uncle."

Micki raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "He's crotchety and cranky and that's on a good day. Oh and did I mention he lied? The dog is not trained to help people. She flunked doggy school."

"But she loves your uncle for who he is."

Micki laughed, a light, appealing and definitely arousing sound. He hadn't realized how much he needed to see her--see her happy and enjoying life--until right now.

"You've got a good point. And I'm going to ignore her until she starts doing things my way. Either that or I'll have to say-to h.e.l.l with the rules and deposit the dog at the rehab facility because I can't take much more of this." She walked back toward her desk, motioning for Damian to come inside. "So what are you doing in my neck of the woods?" she asked lightly.

Too lightly, Damian thought In fact, for a woman who'd ducked out on him two weeks ago, she was acting awfully pleased to see him now. And that was the key word, Damian thought. Acting. The distance she'd been deliberately placing between them was more real than the smile on her face at the moment.

"I'm here to share some news." He lowered himself into a large chair across from her desk. He was disturbed that he didn't feel as emotionally free as he should and wished he understood the heaviness still in his heart.

Micki took in Damian's conflicted expression. "What's going on?" she asked, suddenly on guard.

Micki had been counting the days even if she wouldn't admit it aloud and she knew it was time. There'd only be one piece of news Damian could possibly want to share.

"The test results are in and..."

Micki leaned over her desk, her heart racing, her throat dry. "And?"

"It's not mine," he said, obviously still in shock. "All this time and energy, all this fear and antic.i.p.ation and the baby isn't mine "

"That's fantastic!" she said, rising and coming around the desk before she could stop herself. "Damian, this is the best news!" She wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tight because not only did she think he needed the support and physical contact, but because she knew she needed it even more. "Yeah, it is." His hugged her back, his face buried in her neck, his scruffy half beard rubbing her skin.

G.o.d, he turned her on, she thought, wishing they could act on the feelings instead of having the all important discussion that was necessary. The one they'd been destined to have once he finally received the test results.

She stepped back and leaned against her desk. "You know I had no doubt you'd have made a great father if it came to that."

His lips turned up in a grim smile. "That was probably the one thing that got me through. Your faith in me when I had none in myself."

She shrugged, embarra.s.sed her feelings about him were so obvious. "I'm glad to have helped. I'm also glad it turned out the way you wanted it to."

"Yeah. Funny thing about that," he began.

"Wait, okay? There's something more I have to say."

He shifted in his seat, getting more comfortable. "Okay. Shoot."

Micki drew a deep breath. "First I just want to make sure you realize we need to schedule a press conference of sorts or release a statement and get your words out there first. We want this story to end with your spin on it, n.o.body else's."

He nodded. "That's fine. PR is your area. I'll do whatever you say."

"Good " she said. "Good." Easy clients were the best ones. Now for the harder part. She reached back and grabbed a pencil, grateful for something to hold on to, and she rolled it between her palms. "When you speak to reporters, whenever that is, they're going to ask about your future plans. You may think they mean baseball, but they'll be talking about your personal life."

Damian burst out laughing. "At this point, I have nothing to hide."

"All you need to remember is that you learned from the experience, you realize you are a role model to your fans, you're sorry if you disappointed anyone and you intend to go on from here."

"I'm sure I can handle that," he said soberly.

The situation with Carole had obviously scarred him but Micki had no doubt his relief would give way as he reacclimatized himself to his life. She vividly remembered his words back on the island, a time that felt so long ago, she might have been a different person. You need to know that any partner I've ever been with knows the score and agrees to play by my rules.

Who knew his rules would hurt so much? "One last thing."

He tipped his head to one side. "What would that be?"

"When you resume your...umm...former lifestyle, you should try to be discreet for a while. Don't let the media catch you at clubs picking up women. It'll look like you didn't mean it when you said you were sorry and you knew you'd dodged a bullet."

"Clubs and women?" he asked as if he'd never considered the notion.

He was probably too stunned by the test results to have had time to think, but she knew the inevitable would happen. Micki swallowed hard. Letting him go and meaning it were two different things.

She had to say the words out loud. "Come on, you're Damian Fuller. You made enjoying life and winning baseball legendary. The scandal's behind you. Don't tell me you haven't been itching to get back to living."

"Living, huh?"

She forced a laugh at the way he repeated her words, "You're definitely still in shock."

He shook his head hard. "You could say that Speaking of living, want to get dinner tonight?"

"I'm sorry but once I catch up on work, it's my night to visit Uncle Yank."

He shrugged. "Okay, how about I go with you?"

"I'm not sure that's how you want to spend your first official night of freedom. Go celebrate," she urged him.

He might have gotten used to lying low, but she knew the time would come when he'd be ready to resume a normal life. It wouldn't do her any good to be around him more than necessary.

He blinked, staring off into s.p.a.ce, as if he were thinking things through. "Yeah, I guess you have a point. The sooner I get back to ' normal,' the sooner I'll feel like myself again."

Her smile actually hurt. "That's the spirit. So...do you want to go for a press conference or a press release to announce the results?"

"I vote for a release. I'm really not up to dealing with reporters right now."

She nodded in understanding. "They'll find you eventually but I think it's a smart move for the time being." She jotted some notes on the pad she always kept on her desk. "I'll take care of it" she promised.

It was probably the last thing she'd do in her capacity as publicist in charge of Damian Fuller, Micki thought. Once they wrapped up this issue, she intended to turn him over to Annabelle or Sophie, either of whom could easily coordinate with Uncle Yank and Spencer Atkins on Damian's professional future.

He rose to leave, pausing where she leaned against the desk. "Goodbye, Micki."

"Bye," she murmured. With him standing so near, she could inhale his s.e.xy masculine scent and take in his scruffy beard and rugged features up close one last time. Her heartbeat kicked into high gear as she struggled to hold back her emotions.

His steady gaze met hers. For a man who'd just been given a reprieve, he didn't look relieved. But if she asked what was bothering him, she'd be investing herself in his life again and she'd struggled too hard to protect herself from those feelings.

If she didn't put up barriers first, he was bound to wake up and distance himself from her sooner or later.

Better she have enough self-respect to mate it sooner.

DAMIAN WAS STINKING DRUNK and he still didn't feel a d.a.m.n bit better. He'd headed to the bar after the 4:00 p.m. game where he'd suited up but hadn't played. Not even a Renegades win helped his mood.

"I'll have what he's having," Carter said to the bartender and slid into the seat next to Damian.

"Of all the bars in Manhattan you had to choose this one?" Damian asked.

The other man shrugged. "What can I say? The Blue Season seemed to fit my mood."

That surprised Damian. "Things didn't go well back at the doctor?"

"Depends what you mean. Is the baby mine? Yeah." And at the admission, a wide grin spread over Carter's face. "Is Carole thrilled with the fact? Couldn't tell you. She's not interested in some big love story. In fact she thinks I deserve better than her. How's that for a laugh? If you ask me, we're so d.a.m.n alike we deserve each other." With that, he finished his scotch in a few healthy gulps.

Damian burst out laughing. "I couldn't have said it better myself." But he felt for the guy. Damian gestured for another round.

"So what's with you?" Carter asked. "I thought you'd be celebrating your escape. Instead you look like a guy on a bender."

Damian stared into the golden liquid. "Go figure," he muttered. "Because I sure as h.e.l.l can't."

"Don't tell me you're disappointed with the results." Carter sounded appalled at the notion. With a shrug, Damian took another gulp of the fiery drink. "Like you said, depends on what you mean. Am I happy I'm not the father of Carole's kid? h.e.l.l, yeah." He shot a glance Carter's way. "No offense intended."

"None taken."

"But are you looking at a happy man right now? h.e.l.l, no. The thing of it is, I have no idea why I'm not celebrating."

"I'm younger than you and I've done my share of stupid things, but I can still look at you and answer that question. It just depends if you want to hear what I have to say."

"Why not? It's not like I have any answers." Damian leaned on one elbow and stared into the eyes of the rookie, the kid poised to take his place on the team.

Damian had accepted that now. He glanced down at his aching, braced wrist. He'd had no choice. "So what's your take on my life?"

"You're looking at the end of your career and you hate it," Carter said, shoving his chair back and himself out of Damian's reach as he spoke.

Damian chuckled. "I'm not going to hit you."

"I'm not taking any chances."

"Go on,"

Carter paused for a drink first. "Maybe you got used to the idea of having a kid. In general, you know? Not Carole's kid but one of your own. Maybe you thought it'd fill the void when you weren't playing anymore."

"What the f.u.c.k are you, a shrink? I've never once considered the end of my career and I never thought about having kids,"

"Not consciously but what about unconsciously?" Carter asked.

"You mean subconsciously."

The kid shrugged. "That, too."

Damian wiped a hand over his face and groaned. "I need air."

"What'd she say about you not being the father?" Carter asked, ignoring him.

"Who?"

Carter drew a deep breath and looked at Damian warily. "The hot little publicist, that's who"

Damian shot to his feet and pulled Carter up by his shirt at the same time. "You talk about her like that again and you're a dead man."

Carter held his hands up in front of him. "You said you wouldn't hit me." "I changed my mind."

He shook his head. "Whoa, man. Who'd have thought a stab in the dark would pay off ? Look, Captain, anyone with eyes can see she means something to you. Except maybe you." This time Carter actually ducked and headed for the door.

"Good reflexes," Damian called out to him, laughing despite himself.