The Tycoon's Marriage Bid. Allison Leigh
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a room at the Lucius Inn. Call me when you change your mind.”
“I won’t.”
His head tilted slightly in acknowledgment. Then he picked up his coat again and left the room. The hospital door swung shut behind him, leaving her alone with nothing but the lingering hint of his aftershave and the rhythmic ticking of the stark round clock hanging very high on the wall.
Maybe the hospital administrators were afraid their patients were likely to abscond with the ugly, utilitarian thing if they hung it at eye level.
She slowly smoothed her hands over the thin blanket, removing every bump and wrinkle. The baby moved. Only a few weeks ago, it had felt more like butterflies darting around inside her. Now, the motions were more distinct. More…real.
She folded her hands over her belly.
Eyed the closed door through the tears that wouldn’t be held back no matter how hard she tried, or how desperately she focused on everything around her except her situation.
She would not call Alex. She could get through this in the same way she’d gotten through every other painful episode in her life.
On her own. One aching hour…day…week at a time.
Twenty-four hours later, Nikki called Alex at the Lucius Inn.
Twenty-six hours later, she left the hospital—and very nearly the last chunk of savings she had in her bank account—behind, and was sitting beside him in the luxurious, spacious SUV he’d rented.
She stared out the window beside her as they drove through town. Lucius was a small community, like a dozen others. It had a main drag where most of the businesses seemed to be located. An older, clearly residential area at one end of town. Fortunate evidence of continued growth—a bustling discount department store, apartments, the Lucius Inn, a medical plaza—at the other end of town. She got a good look at all of them when Alex continued driving right on past, leaving the town behind.
She closed her fingers around the softly padded armrest. “Where is this place that you’ve rented?”
He flicked a glance her way. “Another few miles.”
She wanted to ask how few, but didn’t. Instead, she turned and stared blindly out the window again.
After a disappointing but unsurprising phone conversation with the salvage company that confirmed they would be unable to hold open the position for her, she’d actually started to call the Caribbean resort where Belle and Cage were staying, but hadn’t been able to bring herself to dial the number. What was worse? Calling back her twin from her honeymoon or accepting Alex’s inconceivable offer?
If Belle and Cage returned, the entire family would be bound to find out about it, and she hated worrying them. Hated it. It was bad enough that she knew they’d been worrying over her since she’d announced she was pregnant. They’d harped in the most loving of ways to get her to Weaver or the Double-C, where they could take care of her.
But she took care of herself.
She always had.
But to choose Alex now…that was a different kettle of fish entirely.
Instead of calling Belle, Nikki had left a voice mail message for Emily, one of her stepsisters-in-law, that she’d decided to stay in Montana for a few more weeks, and would call when she got back.
Then she’d hurriedly called Alex.
She still wasn’t sure she’d made the right choice, either.
The cadence of the tires on the highway deepened and she looked ahead as Alex slowed and turned off on a narrow road. It had recently been plowed, judging by the freshly turned snow neatly mounded at the sides. Not even a thin layer of white powder marred the single lane, which seemed barely wide enough to accommodate the SUV’s bulk.
After another ten minutes or so, the pavement ended, but the SUV took the graded gravel in stride. And before long, Alex pulled to a stop in front of a sprawling cabin.
Enormous logs. Stone foundation. A lone window that would let in only twelve square inches of sunlight at a time.
The place looked as if it had been built as a miniature fortress about a million years ago, and for a moment Nikki found herself longing for the confining hospital room.
Alex propped his wrist over the top of the steering wheel as he peered through the windshield at the structure before them. His long, blunt-tipped fingers slowly drummed on the dashboard.
“The sheriff recommended this place?” Nikki finally asked. It was the only glimmer of hope she held.
“He gave me a list of three places. This was the only one available right now. Owner’s name is Tucker. Spends winters in Arizona.”
“Maybe I should just go back to the boardinghouse.” Not that she knew how she’d pay for it.
She realized she was nibbling at her thumbnail, and hurriedly dropped her hand to her lap.
“Can’t.” Alex was still looking ahead at the dwelling. He seemed as enthusiastic as she was to actually look inside it.
But then Alex lived on the top floor of the Echelon, the finest hotel in Cheyenne. Well, the entire state of Wyoming, for that matter. The Echelon wasn’t enormous, but it was “quality.”
“Has she already rented out the room I was using?” Nikki’d had the room reserved for a week, Sunday to Saturday. It was only Friday.
He lifted his shoulder. “Called over there this morning and some girl answered. Said Tiff’s is more or less closed for a while. The owner—Hadley—had some personal stuff to take care of.”
Nikki was chewing her thumbnail again. “I hope she’s okay.” Hadley was a nice woman, about Nikki’s age. Tiff’s hadn’t been booming with business by any stretch, and Nikki had felt as if Hadley was more a taker in of strays than a dedicated innkeeper. Still, Nikki had had a reason for wanting to stay at Tiff’s. And Hadley had been more than accommodating.
“Town’s small enough,” Alex murmured. “Gossip would have gotten around fast enough if she weren’t okay.”
True enough. Her mother’s family, the Clays, all lived in or near the small town of Weaver, Wyoming, and Nikki knew how effectively gossip could travel there.
Alex’s fingers stopped drumming on the dashboard. “Don’t move. I’ll take a look inside.”
Nikki propped her elbow on the armrest and dropped her chin in her hand. “I’m not going anywhere,” she murmured to his back as he got out of the vehicle.
How could she?
She’d been lifted from the hospital bed into a wheelchair to exit the hospital, and then lifted from the chair into the SUV that had been idling, warm and cozy, at the curb outside the hospital entrance.
And Alex had done the lifting.
The doctor’s instructions had been adamant. The only thing Nikki was allowed to do was sit up for very brief periods of time every few hours. And use the bathroom more or less under her own steam.
She was embarrassingly grateful for that particular mercy.
Her thumbnail found its way between her teeth again. She watched Alex go up the rickety-looking steps. The security system consisted of a door key hidden inside the ancient metal mailbox affixed to the wall alongside the door.
He glanced back at the SUV for a moment, then went inside.
Nikki wondered what he was thinking.
When she’d been in his employ, she’d believed she’d been able to anticipate his thoughts.
But now she couldn’t. The uncharted waters were too vast for her to navigate.
He’d left the door open, but she could see little inside because of the shadows from the steeply pitched porch