The Baby's Guardian. Delores Fossen
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he teased.
“On second thought...”
He placed a silencing finger lightly on her lips. “Too late to take it back.” Her lips tingled from his touch. She took a step backward, ending the disturbing contact.
“Your nurse will be in with your discharge papers soon.”
“Hallelujah!” A small smile played about her lips at his jubilant response.
“Try to contain your enthusiasm.”
“No can do.” His smile widened. “I can’t wait to get outta here.”
“Just make sure you rest when you get home.”
“I will.” He paused before pointedly reminding her, “You’ve given me great incentive to. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven?” he asked as she backed away toward the door.
“That’ll be fine.”
“I can’t wait.” He stepped forward and touched her cheek. “See you tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow,” she echoed before leaving.
On the other side of the door, she took and released a deep breath. What had she gotten herself into? It was just one date with an acquaintance—nothing serious, and she would take great care to make sure to keep it that way. Casual and uncomplicated. That was her plan, that was her goal, and she would stick to it no matter how charming Cameron Stewart was. And Lord knows he was the very definition of charming!
* * *
Angela walked into her office and sank gratefully into her comfortable chair behind her paper-laden desk. Closing tired eyes, she sighed audibly. She was beat but still had a lot of hours left before she could go home. She groaned as that horrible realization hit her. At least she had time for a decent lunch before her evening staff meeting.
Opening her eyes, she picked up numerous pink message slips with a weary hand and began reading each one. Boy, was she popular today. One message in particular caught her eye—it was from Cam. She checked the time and found he had called an hour ago. She wondered what he wanted. Maybe he had a question about his discharge instructions. Well, there was only one way to find out.
Picking up the phone, she dialed the number and waited for him to answer. He didn’t. She hung up and redialed, thinking she must have pressed a wrong digit somewhere. Again, there was no response. She bolted upright in her chair, fingers tightening on the receiver as she waited for him to answer. When he didn’t, she tried to calm her suddenly racing heart.
Why wasn’t he answering his phone? Why had he called her? Was it for an innocent reason? Like he simply wanted to tell her where they were going for dinner tomorrow? Or had he been feeling ill and needed some medical advice?
“Get a grip, Angela,” she sternly admonished. “He wouldn’t have been released if he wasn’t okay.” She frantically dialed his number again with the same results—no answer. “Calm down. He’s fine,” she said, trying to reassure herself.
She considered ringing Derrick or Alesha and asking them to check on him but quickly dismissed that idea. She didn’t want to upset them unnecessarily, and such a call from her would do just that. Besides, she was upset enough for all of them.
Without success, she fought valiantly to keep dire thoughts from racing through her mind. What if Cam had passed out and couldn’t answer the phone? What if he was...? She glanced at her watch. She had about two-and-a-half hours before her meeting; that should be enough time. She could get his address from his hospital chart.
Coming to a decision, she stood, grabbed her purse from the desk drawer and hurried out.
Angela drove down George Washington Memorial Parkway for about forty-five minutes until she reached the high-class neighborhood of Potomac, Maryland, where Cam lived. She admired the beautiful multimillion-dollar mansions that sat an aesthetically good distance from the road, until she located Cam’s house—a sprawling two-story white edifice surrounded by a white iron security fence, which thankfully was open. As she drove up to the house, she spared a quick glance at the magnificent, well-manicured lawn. It was only the third week of March, but the grass was already dark green and healthy. Tiny shrubs, colorful plants and flowers strategically framed the circular driveway. A spectacular view of the Potomac River was visible just to the left of his house.
Once she stopped the car and put it into Park, she sprinted out of the vehicle and ran to the front door. She rang the doorbell, alternating with knocking furiously. Just when she thought she was going to have to call for help, she spied a blurred figure approaching through the purposefully distorted frosted glass door and it finally swung open.
Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of a bare-chested Cam. His feet were also bare, and he wore black jeans that hung low on his lean hips. In one hand he held a black shirt carelessly. His frown quickly turned into a smile.
“Angela, what are you doing here? I didn’t expect to see you until tomorrow night.”
“You called me.” Her voice came out in a rush as relief flooded through her at the sight of him. “Why?”
“Oh.” He scratched his chin as if thinking. “I just wanted to ask if you liked Thai food.”
“Thai food?” She stared at him in disbelief. She had nearly had a coronary because he wanted to know if she liked Thai food!
“You could have just called me back.”
She frowned at his logical retort. “I tried to call you, but you didn’t answer your phone.”
“Oh.” He glanced down at his smooth, bare chest, drawing her attention there, as well. “I was probably in the sauna. I never take my phone in there.” He stepped aside. “Come on in.”
“Thanks.” She walked inside and he closed the door behind them, motioning for her to follow him down the black-and-white-tiled hallway into the living room. She noticed his back was just as defined as his muscled chest, and to stop from touching him, she linked her fingers together in front of her. Lord, she wished he’d put on his shirt to remove the temptation to caress his smooth, hard muscles.
“Were you worried about me?” he tossed over his shoulder.
“No,” she quickly answered before sitting down on the sofa.
“No?” He treated her to a skeptical stare before sitting closely beside her. “Then why are you here?”
Why did he have to sit so close? Why hadn’t she chosen one of the tan wing chairs across from the sofa? Gosh, he smelled good—clean, spicy and woodsy. She clasped her fingers tighter together as they lay in her lap to keep them from tracing the well-defined muscles of his pecs that were silently, yet loudly, inviting her to explore to her heart’s content. She bit her lower lip to keep in the groan of appreciation that wanted so desperately to escape from her mouth as her eyes drank in their fill of his magnificent physique.
“Angela?”
“What?” She gazed into his eyes, certain he knew where her deviant thoughts had taken her. It just wasn’t right for one man to be so sexy or so handsome.
“Were you worried about me?” he asked again with a knowing smile.
“I was concerned,” she slowly admitted. “I had visions of you passed out on the floor.”
“And you took time out from your busy day to check on me.” He covered her hands with one of his, and a bolt of awareness shot through her. “I’m flattered.”
She shrugged dismissively. “It’s no big deal.”
“It is to me.” His voice slid over her, caressing like fine silk. “This was quite a drive from Washington.”
“I