The Billionaire And The Bassinet. Suzanne McMinn
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to admit it right off the bat. He couldn’t let big eyes and a sweet smile deter him from his purpose.
“Lanie Blakemore?” the nurse called.
Lanie stood, then disappeared through the door into the inner office.
Garrett stared determinedly out the narrow window, watching the occasional car pass outside the doctor’s office. He tried to think about a land development company in New York he’d been considering buying for the Blakemore Corporation. He tried to think about his upcoming trip to Japan to consult on an overseas merger.
But no matter what he did, his mind kept drifting back to Lanie.
What if he was wrong, what if Walter was wrong? What if Lanie was innocent?
And then he had to wonder if she was really a sorceress, after all.
After what seemed like an eternity, he checked his watch, frustrated. Where was she? Was she really in labor? What was going on? He wanted to pace, but the idea sounded too corny, so he stayed put.
“Is this your first?”
Garrett looked up. The elderly lady across the waiting room watched him. Her cheeks were pink and lined, her eyes bright with curiosity.
“Excuse me?”
“You and your wife must be very excited. It looks like that baby will be here soon.” She smiled.
His wife?
Garrett stared at the elderly woman. It took him a full minute to realize she was actually talking about him and Lanie.
How would he feel if Lanie were his wife and she was having his baby? Proud was the first word that popped into Garrett’s mind.
Then he thought about Vanessa. He and Vanessa had discussed having children, once or twice. That was as far as things had gotten.
That was as far as their marriage had gotten before Garrett had figured out that he’d been the biggest chump on planet Earth. Nothing like finding your wife in bed with another man to drive home the fact that trust was for idiots.
He wasn’t going to make that mistake again. Not with anybody. And for sure not with Lanie. She might have eyes like a newborn foal’s, but Garrett wasn’t going to be taken in that easily.
“That’s not my wife,” Garrett said suddenly, sharply. “In fact, I barely know her.” A fact he’d be well advised to remember, he added to himself.
The older woman looked startled.
Garret picked up a newspaper from the table next to him and held it in front of his face, discouraging any further communication. He struggled to concentrate on the black-and-white print. And he wondered why he hadn’t told Walter to send his sixty-year-old, stuffed-shirt personal attorney, Richard Houseman, on this little mission to Deer Creek.
“Now, remember, rest tonight, Lanie. And try not to worry.”
Lanie thanked the nurse as she slipped through the door between the inner and outer offices. Her gaze went straight to Garrett. He folded up the newspaper he held and dropped it on the table, standing as she approached.
“Are you all right?” he asked immediately.
“I’m fine.” Really, she wasn’t. She was worried sick. The examination’s conclusion was uncertain. Her pains had been erratic and had emanated from her lower abdomen rather than her back, leading Dr. Furley to suspect it was merely false labor. However, he had also reminded her that everyone’s experience was different, and she could well be exhibiting very early labor, after all. Only time would tell.
Dr. Fursley had reassured her that the baby was healthy and big enough to be born, and had performed another sonogram to reassure her. Still, Patty wouldn’t be back until Sunday night. Lanie was scared to death of going through labor without her coach.
“You’re sure you’re fine?” Garrett probed. He looked suspicious, as if he didn’t quite believe her.
“Yes, of course.”
She made an appointment with the receptionist for a regular prenatal visit the following week, determined not to tell Garrett any details. She wasn’t going to have this baby before at least Sunday night, that was all there was to it, and she had no intention of sharing the doctor’s warnings with Garrett. The information might up the coercion level for getting her to go back to Austin with him immediately, and as vulnerable as she felt, she didn’t think she was up to the confrontation.
She had to admit she was glad to have him there to drive her home, though. She was definitely feeling a little weak and shaky. And thankfully, he seemed to have accepted her assurances. He was quiet as he escorted her out to the car again.
Starting up the engine, he turned to look at her. “Nothing’s wrong? What about the pain you were having?” Garrett didn’t move the car as he waited for Lanie to answer.
So much for accepting her word for anything.
“I told you, I’m fine,” Lanie repeated, working to make her voice firm. Garrett’s piercing dark gaze, so much like Ben’s—and yet so different, unsettled her. She wasn’t used to having anyone worrying about her.
For just a moment Garrett’s attention and concern felt nice. Kind of warm and fuzzy, with just the right dash of the unknown.
Ben had certainly never worried about her. He’d always been too busy worrying about himself, angry and obsessed by his bitter emotional struggle with his father.
How would Walter Blakemore feel if he knew he was right about at least one thing about her—that his son’s marriage to her had been a mistake?
Reality reared up, ugly and painful. The Blakemores hated her. Garrett wasn’t worried about her. His concern and attention was not for her. He was worried about the possible Blakemore heir.
“It was just false labor, like I thought,” she forced herself to say blithely. “Now, please, I really have to get home. I have guests coming in tonight.”
She remembered suddenly she didn’t even have the room made up. Just thinking of the evening ahead made her bone weary. She’d had a full house the night before—and had intended them to be her last guests for a while. She’d taken care not to allow bookings for the month preceding her due date and for six weeks afterward, the most time she could afford to close the struggling B&B. But she’d been feeling chipper this morning when a couple had called for last-minute reservations.
She regretted the impulse that had made her accept the booking. She wasn’t feeling nearly so chipper now.
Garrett backed the car out of the parking space, but he wasn’t through with his questions.
“How do you know it’s false labor?” he asked as he swung the car into the street, heading in the direction of the B&B.
“The contractions were erratic,” Lanie explained briefly. “And they went away. Also, the pain began in my lower abdomen, rather than my lower back—which is where real contractions usually start.” She looked out the window, as if intensely interested in the scenery passing by, discouraging further conversation. She had no intention of elaborating.
They passed through the town square, complete with a courthouse surrounded on four sides by active businesses that clearly appealed to Hill Country tourism—a hotel, several restaurants and antique and novelty shops. In a few minutes they arrived at the Victorian B&B. Lanie unhooked her seat belt and shoved open the passenger-side door.
“Thank you for taking me to the doctor.”
“No problem.” Garrett removed his keys from the ignition.
“I’m sorry you made this trip out here for nothing,” she said with almost painful civility. “I really don’t think there’s anything else for us to talk about.”
“Lanie—”
“I’m not going back to