Wilder Hearts: Once Upon a Pregnancy

She studied him for a moment, as though pondering what to say, what to reveal.

About the time he’d decided that she wasn’t going to tell him, she said, “I dated this guy in college. I can’t say that he did any real number on me. But he certainly made me aware of my deficiencies in a relationship.”

Mike couldn’t think of any flaws that she might have, other than refusing to let her feelings go and give love a chance. “The guy was a fool.”

“No, Tom might have been brash and insensitive. But he pretty much got it right. He called me an ice queen, and it hurt—a lot. But I knew what he meant, and there wasn’t anything I could do to change that.”

“You weren’t cold or unfeeling the night you and I slept together.”

Her voice softened, even if her resolve didn’t. “How about the next morning?”

Yeah. There was that.

She blotted her lips with a napkin, then pushed her plate aside. “I don’t connect very well with people, Mike. I always hold back. And while I care about you—far more than is in my best interests—I can’t give you and me the chance you want us to have.”

“Why?” he asked, wanting to understand.

“Because my mother hated my father. Because she never wanted me in the first place. Because she decided to be noble and carry me to term, which I appreciate, but she was hell-bent on keeping me when she should have given me to someone who would have loved me.” Simone stood, picked up her plate, glass and silverware, then carried them into the kitchen, leaving Mike to second-guess what she’d just told him and to wonder what, if anything, she might have held back.

He, too, got to his feet and made his way to the kitchen with his own place setting.

“Hey,” he said, sidling up to her as she filled the sink with hot, soapy water. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

She turned to face him. “I know. But it’s best that you understand something. I didn’t have the love that you had growing up. I’m not sure if you put any merit in child psychology, but I never bonded with my mom. I didn’t learn to trust. Whenever I was hurt, no one gave a damn. So on the outside, I might look okay and act professionally. But on the inside, I’m scared and not so sure about things. And for that reason, I’m happier being alone.”

Mike gently gripped her shoulders, the silky strands of her hair brushing against his knuckles. “You’re a queen, but you’re not made of ice. And I’ll give you the time you need. Just don’t shut me out because you have some wild-ass notion that you’re looking out for my best interests.”

Then he kissed her, long and hard and thorough.

Their tongues mated, their breaths mingled. Their hearts pounded out in need.

And when he was done, when there was a flush of arousal along her neck and chest, when her lips parted and her eyes widened, he excused himself for the evening and left her alone.

To think.

And, hopefully, to yearn for all that they could be together.

Chapter Eight

On Monday, Simone was asked to work an early shift to cover for Maureen Wiggins, an E.R. nurse who’d called in sick because of food poisoning.

So far, the morning had been relatively quiet, so while she took a lunch break, she carried a fantasy novel into the solarium, where she planned to spend some quiet time reading.

The solarium was a convenient place to take a break—and a cheerful one. An abundance of windows provided sunlight, as well as a view of the garden and the various elms, oaks and maples that had been growing on the hospital grounds for nearly forty years.

For the first time since the winter months had stripped the bushes bare, the roses had begun to bloom in a colorful array of buds and blossoms.

Because of the solitude and the view, the solarium had become Simone’s favorite place to steal a little reading time and escape into another world. Once inside, she planned to find a little alcove of cushiony chairs and make herself comfortable for the next twenty minutes or so. She’d even set the alarm on her watch so that she’d know when to end her break.

As she’d hoped, the solarium was nearly empty, other than a man talking on his cell phone in the corner.

She’d no more than glanced his way when she recognized Dr. Peter Wilder. Now that he was back in private practice, she didn’t see him as often.

At first, she planned to ignore him and go about her business. But when she sensed he was having what appeared to be a serious, personal conversation with someone, Simone decided that it might be best if she left the room and let him speak in private.

“You’re wrong, Anna,” he said.

Simone easily surmised he was talking to his adopted sister.

Years ago, when Anna was an infant, she’d been left at the hospital by an unknown woman and adopted by Peter’s parents. According to what Simone had gathered over the years by comments made to her by both Ella and Peter, their father, the late James Wilder, spent years trying to prove the family’s love to Anna, which only created a strain between her and his other children.

To make matters worse, Anna had taken a position with NHC, and her family loyalty was in question.

Simone supposed, in some instances, adoptions might not work out the way everyone intended them to. And she’d have to keep that in mind.

For the first time since learning she was pregnant, she realized that giving up the baby might not be the slam-dunk solution she’d been hoping for. That there were a lot of factors to consider.

But she supposed parenting, in general, was a difficult job—and not one to be taken lightly.

Peter glanced up, and when their gazes connected, Simone whispered, “Sorry.” She motioned that she would leave him in private, but he shook his head, indicating that she didn’t need to go.

Unfortunately, she felt uncomfortable either way.

“All right, I’ll let you go. But do me a favor. Just try to see the family’s side in this situation.” Peter’s lips tensed, then he slowly folded up his cell phone, ending the call without saying goodbye.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Simone said.

“You didn’t. We were hanging up anyway. Anna had a meeting to attend, so she said she’d talk to me later.” Peter blew out a heavy sigh. “But I’m not so sure she’ll call back. I’m afraid my sister is so removed from my life that she doesn’t understand why I’m against the NHC takeover.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Simone thought highly of all the Wilders, and she sensed that the rift between Anna and her siblings was becoming more and more serious.

“If you had walked in a few minutes sooner, you would have heard a few heated words. I tried to explain how my dad felt about this hospital, how Ella, David and I feel, but Anna…Well, she just doesn’t get it. I’m afraid that conversation we just had might have made things worse.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Simone didn’t usually open up to her coworkers about her personal concerns and issues, but sometimes they found it easy to share with her. She suspected that was because she never took part in gossip or betrayed a confidence.

“There’s really nothing to say.” Peter got to his feet. “We’ve got some upcoming family weddings on the horizon, including my own. But I’m not even sure if Anna plans to attend any of them.”

“It’s tough when there’s a rift in a family.” Even when it was only a family of two, like Simone and her mother.

“You’re right.” As Peter approached Simone and headed for the door, he said, “The solarium is all yours now.”

“Thanks.”

As he left the sunlit room, Simone no longer felt like reading. Instead, she strode toward one of the windows and peered into the garden, noting the colorful signs of spring and renewal, the shoots of new growth and colorful blooms.

Peter’s trouble with Anna only reminded her of the relationship she had with her mother.

It had been nearly a week, and her mom still hadn’t returned her last call. But what else was new?