His Heir, Her Honour / Meddling With A Millionaire: His Heir, Her Honour

“How nice that you find my medical history so amusing.”

“I don’t find any of this at all funny. Particularly your insinuations about my honesty earlier.” She half looked back at him over her shoulder. “Have you let your new girlfriend know?”

Ouch, she hadn’t meant to bring up the whole Nancy issue again and sound—God forbid—jealous. She looked away quickly before he could see any betraying emotions on her face.

His footsteps echoed behind her, closer, the sound and feel of him too familiar. “I told you already.” He stroked back her hair from her ear. “I broke things off with her.”

Goose bumps rose on her skin, twinkling boat lights on the water blurring as everything faded but the sound of his breathing, the light skim of his fingers. Good God, his surgeon hands had such a capacity for minute movements, meticulous attentiveness until he turned even an inch of her shoulder into a volatile erogenous zone.

“Well, she should know you can still—”

Her words hitched up short on her next breath, heat flooding through her body and pooling low. The crisp scent of him—night air and ocean breeze—drew nearer, stronger, until she flattened her hand against the cool windowpane to steady herself.

He cupped her shoulders in broad, careful hands and turned her to face him. “She does not need to be informed.”

Did that mean they weren’t sleeping together or that he’d been more careful? She tried not to care about the answer, hating that he had such power over her feelings. The way her temperature spiked when she simply looked at him, the sensation of the room shrinking to just the two of them. All too easily she could lose sight of how important it was to keep her head clear.

Shifting her focus from herself to her child, she asked, “What did the doctor have to say?”

His fingers slid down the length of her arms before he tucked his hands into his trouser pockets. “I can give you the lengthy technobabble about motility and counts if you wish. But while chances are very low I can father a child,” he swallowed hard, “the chance does exist.”

That simple slow swallow spoke emotional volumes from such an aloof man. Sympathy for him stirred against her will. What a shocker this day must have been for him on a number of levels, which didn’t excuse the way he’d betrayed their friendship over the past few weeks with his aloof behavior. But still, the hurt and disappointment eased at having him backtrack. Now, finally, they could make plans for their baby.

She chewed her lip, tasting toothpaste from her earlier attempt to brush away the persistent memory of his kiss. “I realize this must be a big surprise for you—”

“My feelings are irrelevant,” he charged over her, his face set again in a mask she’d seen him don during especially taxing surgeries. “I spoke with a GYN colleague and we can have a chorionic villus sampling done in your twelfth to fourteenth week of pregnancy to determine paternity.”

An early paternity test? He still doubted her? So much for sympathetic leanings on her part.

Anger starched up her spine again vertebrae by vertebrae. “Fine. You’ve said what you came here for—”

“Actually, I haven’t finished.”

“Well, good for you. However, I’ve had more than enough of your company for one day.”

“That’s my point. Today hasn’t gone well for either of us. And regardless of how that test comes out, we’re going to be tied to each other, whether through the pregnancy or through work. I’m assuming you have no intention of changing jobs and neither do I.”

“That hasn’t stopped you from being a jerk since December.” She jabbed him in the chest with her pointer. “Other people—” like Nancy “—may be willing to put up with your moodiness because you were a hospital legend even before you turned out to be some kind of royalty, but I happen to think that excuses nothing.”

“You’re absolutely correct on all counts.” His angular face creased with the first smile she’d seen from him in so long, longer than she could remember. The power of it was so much stronger than it should be.

Her arm fell to her side. “Pardon me?”

“You heard me.” He stroked back a lock of her hair then withdrew his hand before she could object. “You’re right. I’ve been a—what did you say earlier?—a jackass.”

She sank onto her sleek red sofa, trying to process this latest surprise turn from him, tough to do when he scattered her thoughts with a simple touch or heated look. “What brought you around to my way of thinking?”

Settling onto the gray-and-white striped chair beside her, he leaned forward, elbows on his knees—closer to her. “Actually, seeing you and Nancy in the office together. I should have given our impetuous night together some closure before moving on.”

Stunned anew, she bit her tongue, afraid if she spoke, his surprising chattiness would dry up as quickly as it started.

“I still stand by what I said the morning after we were together.” He stared at her intently, his linked hands so close to her legs if she even twitched, they would make contact. “I shouldn’t have let things go that far between us, but I also shouldn’t have assumed things could return to normal either.”

She refrained from mentioning the past months had brought anything but a return to normal. He’d become even more of a workaholic than normal, leaving not even a free half hour for a simple shared coffee as they’d done in the past. Although apparently he’d found time for dates with Nancy Wolcott.

Damn, that green-eyed monster was a tenacious beast. “What is your point?”

“We have about a week’s window before the paternity test to find even ground. I propose that we make the most of it.”

Suspicion prickled. Could he be making a move on her because of that kiss? While she might have caved to the temptation of that passionate clench a few weeks ago, now that she knew about the baby she needed to be more cautious. “Make the most of it in what way?”

“Let’s both take a week of vacation. We leave Washington and work behind to focus 24/7 on clearing the air.”

Except he never took time off. Ever.

His offer to step away from the hospital rocked her, and also made her wonder if he could actually be serious. Her own calendar was packed solid. However, he had a point about the future. And she already knew how that paternity test would turn out. This truly could be her only chance to resolve her feelings for Carlos. Her only chance to protect her heart for the many times she would have to face him in the coming years.

“A week off from the hospital,” she parroted, needing confirmation even if she didn’t know what she would do once she got it. “Just you and me?”

“That’s what I said.” He nodded curtly, a lock of hair sliding across his forehead. He worked such insane hours he even missed regular haircuts.

“What about your patients? And what about the little girl you operated on this afternoon?”

“My part in her medical plan is complete. As for my other cases, everything can be handled by doctors on staff.”

Heaven knows there were plenty of physicians who owed him for the times he’d stepped in for them and countless holidays spent on call so they could be with their families.

Still, she didn’t quite trust he would simply drop everything in Tacoma. There must be a catch. “Where would we go?”

“How about Colorado? My family owns a house there.”

Panic tickled. “Who else lives there?”

“No one. It’s a resort property. It’s empty now and completely at our disposal.”

Alone? Just the two of them? While she wasn’t ready for a meet-the-parents moment, she also wasn’t sure total isolation with her hot onetime lover was such a brilliant idea either.

Although memories of what a jerk he’d been today could provide plenty of protection. Then she thought of the tiny life growing inside her and knew she didn’t have any choice. Certainly this was a surprise baby at a time when she’d begun to wonder if perhaps motherhood wasn’t in the cards for her. But from the moment she’d seen the heart fluttering on the ultrasound, she’d known she would do anything, absolutely anything for her child.

Including spend seven tempting days alone with Carlos Medina.

Outside Lilah’s condo building, Carlos closed the door on his Mercedes SUV and hooked his arm over the steering wheel.

Puget Sound stretched out beyond his windshield, hazy through the misty rain. Through the tinted windows, he soaked in the sight, gaining some mystical comfort from the light roll of waves.

Water locales drew him, his brothers as well, likely because it reminded them of their island homeland of San Rinaldo. His middle brother, Duarte, had left their father’s fortress to scoop up seaside investment resorts before settling in Martha’s Vineyard. Antonio, the youngest Medina son, had been drawn to the warmer climate of Galveston Bay, where he’d become a shipping magnate. Ironically, even their half sister, Eloisa, spent most of her life in Pensacola, Florida, before settling with her new husband in Hilton Head, South Carolina.

He could only conclude that the shores called to something centuries old in their genetics. The scientist inside him didn’t make so much as a peep in protest of the illogical thought. He felt the proof surging through his veins. Only once had he felt anything as strong—the night he’d spent with Lilah. The past few months he’d been fighting the temptation to lose himself in her again. He’d tried to move on.