Falling For His Proper Mistress (12 page)

“Not too long.” The receptionist gave him a polite smile. “There's a coffee machine, feel free to help yourself.”

Avery limped away to the seating area.

Guy came up behind her. “Can I get you a hot drink?”

“I'm fine.”

Instead of settling beside her, Guy started to pace.

More out of a desire to give Guy something to do, than from thirst, Avery said, “I wouldn't mind a bottle of water, I saw a kiosk when we came in.”

“Right.”

Guy was gone before she could say more.

The receptionist caught Avery's eye and said, “Good idea to keep him busy.”

Avery laughed in agreement. “I've only twisted my ankle, but he's behaving like it's broken.”

The woman clucked. “Some men fuss when they're worried.”

Avery didn't set her right. Guy wouldn't possibly be concerned about something so minor.

He still hadn't returned by the time Avery was ushered into an examining room. The doctor had kind brown eyes that looked years younger than her cropped, gray hair suggested.

“You've hurt your ankle.”

Avery nodded and told her what had happened. “Just one
thing,” she tacked on, “why do you need to know whether I'm pregnant?”

“So that we can take the necessary steps to protect the baby. It's always better to be safe than sorry. Is it possible that you may be pregnant?”

“I can't rule it out.”

The doctor made a note on her pad. “We'll get that checked out to give some certainty in case we need X-rays. For now, let me take a look at that ankle.”

Avery slipped her shoes off. “I took an over-the-counter pregnancy test—it was negative.” The sinking regret that had swamped her returned for an instant. Reason told her that she wasn't pregnant. If she were, she'd be almost three months along by now. Surely she wouldn't have missed the signs?

It was impossible.

Yet since the first time Guy had raised the possibility of her pregnancy the thought had lingered, haunting her, refusing to dissipate, playing on her mind, recalling the dreams of motherhood…a family. Wishful thinking?

No, it had been nothing more than dreams. Dreams that didn't—could never—include Guy.

Determinedly Avery shook herself free of the reverie.

“How does this feel?” The doctor's touch was cool on her ankle. “No pain.”

“What about now?”

Avery flinched. “That's tender.”

There were more questions, and afterward the doctor said, “There is some swelling. It's probably only a twist, but I'd like to x-ray it just in case.”

“It must've happened while I was trying to get out of the vehicle.” Nancy had wanted her to wait for the paramedics,
but she hadn't been able to bear the idea of being trapped inside the crippled car.

"The X-rays will confirm whether there are any fractures, but first let's get a specimen and check for pregnancy. I may have to examine you, too." The doctor lifted the handset of the phone on the wall. "Let me call the nurse to show you where the bathroom is."

“Y
ou were right to be concerned,” The doctor said ten minutes later as she leaned forward on her stool and studied Avery. “You are pregnant. When was your last period?”

Avery's ears started to ring and a numbness filled her. Frantically she calculated in her head. “I should've started my period this past weekend.” But she hadn't. More desperately, she continued, “But the test—”

“When did you take the test?”

The test had failed. Despite the claims on the package of ninety-nine percent accuracy. How typical. Struggling with the daze of disbelief that had enveloped her, Avery tried to concentrate. “About two weeks ago.”

“Too early to have shown.” The doctor sounded very certain.

Avery stared at her in surprise. “What do you mean, too early?”

“By my estimation you're only about three weeks pregnant.”

“Three weeks?”

That meant it had probably happened that night in the hot tub. Oh, God, how unlucky. And how lucky, too. She'd wanted a child…Guy's child…now it had happened, against all odds.

And against Guy's will.

Joy withered and dismay set in.

“I know it must be a lot to take in,” the doctor said kindly. “There are always adjustments to be made.” Glancing down at the form on her desk, she continued, “I see you work at Jarrod Ridge. I'll give you a card for a local prenatal group. Here's a diet sheet with suggestions of what might cause discomfort—don't forget to take plenty of folic acid.” With a smile, the doctor added, “Congratulations. After you've had the X-rays done, come back and we'll talk about what to do to make that ankle as comfortable as possible. Ice and as much rest as possible for starters.”

“Won't the X-rays harm the baby?”

The doctor shook her head. “You'll be protected by a lead apron. It will form a cone right down to your ankles. Baby will be perfectly safe.”

Avery staggered back into the reception area, still reeling with shock.

Guy sprang forward.

“What did the doctor say?”

“Uh—” she gazed into his alarmed eyes.
I'm pregnant.
Yeah, that would allay his fears. Instead she forced a smile. “A twisted ankle. Nothing major.” Nothing major?

How on earth was she supposed to break the news? Guy had never wanted a long-term relationship. He considered her capable of sleeping with his friend, his business partner.
Of flirting with every eligible male who came her way. If he thought she was capable of that kind of treachery, surely he would never believe this baby was his? Particularly when she wasn't even sure whether he believed her about Jeff. Oh, God, Jeff was his friend, someone who was part of his everyday life. She'd prefer to see Jeff in hell. How could she bear to tell Guy that he was her baby's father when that would mean giving a creep like Jeff entry into her life? And her baby's life.

It was all enough to make her feel ill.

And that sensation had nothing to do with morning sickness—although that would probably not take long to follow.

Guy was staring at her expectantly. He must've asked her a question.

“I need to ice it and keep my weight off it, the doctor said,” Avery bubbled, hoping that her response wasn't too far off what he asked.

His brow creased in a frown. “The room you have has a flight of stairs in the corridor. You can't stay there. Now you'll have to move in with me.”

“No!”

Panic set in.

She couldn't bear to stay with him given all the tension between them.

“Avery, I swear I'll protect you. Your business credibility will not be compromised. But you need to be realistic. If you're going to have your foot up to rest it, you should have someone around.”

“I'll be fine.”

His jaw firmed. “We'll see.”

A nurse came forward. “Ms. Lancaster? Follow me.”

Guy caught her fingers. “Where to next?”

Avery shook her fingers free. “I'll be back as soon as the X-rays are done.”

A backward glance revealed Guy pacing in the reception area, the bottle of water she'd requested still clutched in his hand.

 

“About time you got here.”

Gavin, the next oldest Jarrod after him and Blake, came loping across the tennis court swinging his racket. Guy had called his brother to let him know that Avery had met with an accident, and he would be late for the game that had become a weekly fixture since their father's funeral.

“How is Avery?” Gavin brushed his light brown hair back from a face tanned to a shade of gold by the August sun.

“She banged her ankle.” Guy shrugged, reluctant to let on how anxious he'd been. He hated hospitals. And all the while that they'd been there he'd kept worrying that something was going to go wrong. It had started with that dratted confrontation with the bear by the river. Hell, he'd almost been expecting today's call.

He had to get a grip.

Because Avery wasn't going to die.

She'd hurt herself—it was far from fatal. He wasn't about to share his baseless fear with Gavin, even though Gavin—not Blake—had been closest to him growing up. His twin Blake had always been able to say exactly what his father wanted to hear, whereas anything that Guy had said or done had been subject to criticism. His father had dismissed his drawings as useless. And when he'd told his father he wanted to be a photographer when he grew up, his father had bellowed so much that Guy had terminated his membership with the school camera club.

“She'll need to rest,” Gavin said.

“I know.” Guy unzipped his bag and pulled out his tennis
shoes. “But she's such a stubborn little thing, I doubt she'll listen.”

Gavin gave him a swift look. “Sounds like you know her pretty well.”

Oh, hell. That's right, Avery hadn't wanted his family—anyone—to know about them. He was so bad at keeping secrets. Especially from his family.

“Uh, we've talked a bit over the past weeks.”

“A bit?” Gavin started to grin. “I heard about drinks in the sky lounge, dinners at Chagall's…you were even spotted out in town one night.”

“All work—we were talking about the menus and beverages.” It sounded so damn righteous. So he looked down and fastened his laces and added, “Truly.”

The snort Gavin gave told him his brother hadn't bought it. “I suggested that she stay in one of the family suites until her ankle gets better, but she refuses.”

Gavin raised an eyebrow. “Your suite, I suppose?”

Avery would have his head if she overheard this conversation.

“The woman is injured.” Guy tried to look affronted as he picked up his racket and zipped the cover off. “She will need help. Get your imagination out of the gutter, Gavin.”

After giving him a penetrating stare, his brother said, “Perhaps she could stay with Erica and Christian.”

Guy considered it. “Avery might feel like she's a third wheel—those two are nesting…planning their wedding.”

“What about if she stayed with Melissa at Willow Lodge?” Gavin suggested.

“Willow Lodge is the cabin farthest from the Manor. It would be too hard for Avery to manage.”

“Too hard for Avery to manage—or too far from your
suite?” Gavin taunted as they walked to opposite ends of the court.

Guy didn't answer. This was exactly the kind of talk Avery wanted to avoid. At Willow Lodge she'd have some space, some privacy. He concentrated on his serve. Fault.

After a double fault, he collected the balls and said, “You know, you might be onto something there. Willow Lodge would be perfect. Avery might be happy with that idea.”

“You better take care,” Gavin called a few minutes later when Guy served another double fault that gave Gavin the game. “You're distracted. Looks like woman trouble to me.”

Ignoring the comment, Guy handed two tennis balls to his brother as they switched ends. “You still climbing the walls with nothing to do?”

Gavin said, “It's been extremely frustrating. A month ago I was in Namibia designing a wall for the biggest dam in that desert country. Now all projects are on hold. I'm twiddling my thumbs. Sitting around, waiting for Dad's estate to be wound up is driving me nuts.” Opening his gear bag he pulled two bottles of water from the depths and handed one to Guy.

Pausing to open the pop-up top, Guy considered his brother's problem. “The Food and Wine Gala might not be the kind of thing that spins your wheels, but there must be some challenge you can sink your teeth into.”

“I'll have to find something. Otherwise I might explore that old mine we played in as children. Maybe I can strike gold.”

Guy laughed then tipped his head back and took a long swallow from the water bottle. Way back in 1879 Aspen had been the destination for a silver rush. Among the miners had been Eli Jarrod, their great-great-great-grandfather. “Come on!”

With a start Guy realized that his brother was waiting to
serve. After tossing the bottle into his unzipped gear bag, he jogged back onto the court. “Ready.”

The next few minutes passed in a flurry of action, during which Guy conceded most of the points to his brother. He sneaked a look at his watch. What would Avery be doing now? She'd gone to Tranquility Spa for a massage after their return. Surely that would be over by now?

A ball whizzed past him.

“Great ace,” he yelled, hoping flattery would distract his brother from his moment of inattention.

“Ace? My eye.” Gavin was laughing as he crossed to the other side and lined up for the final serve of the match.

This time the delivery was indeed an ace. No doubt about it. Guy shook Gavin's hand over the net and took the ribbing about where his thoughts had been for the duration of the game.

“You must be in love, brother.”

Guy chuckled loudly. “Me? Not going to happen. I was thinking about what to do to keep you busy. Can't have you going insane with boredom.”

He shifted under the unerring focus of Gavin's gaze.

“I always thought that when you fell for a woman you would fall hard,” Gavin said finally. “Looks like it has happened at last.”

“Don't kid yourself,” Guy growled.

“Who's kidding whom?”

Guy had a sinking feeling that despite his wide-eyed mock innocence Gavin might be right, that he was indeed teetering on the edge of the precipice yawning ahead of him.

The vision was not comforting.

 

Guy paused for a moment at the door of the premier spa room that Melissa had told him Avery was using.

Avery was sitting on a ledge in a long pool. Water lapped at the top of her bikini-clad breasts in little waves. It rushed over an angled sheet of granite into the pool, sluicing over Avery below. Guy knew from experience that the water was hot—but not as hot as the next waterfall along.

Below the lime green triangles of her bikini top, her hands were touching her tummy with long, slow strokes that he found incredibly arousing. She wore a dreamy expression he'd never seen before.

“What are you thinking about?”

At the sound of his voice Avery started. Her gaze shot to his…then away. “Guy.”

She didn't sound delighted by his presence.

A feeling of déjà vu crept over him as he stepped into the room and closed the door.

Avery gave him an uncertain smile.

“How are you feeling?” he asked coming closer.

Her face cleared a little, and she laced her fingers together. “A lot better, thank you. Joanie has magic hands and Melissa made sure she pampered me to death.”

His face softened at the mention of his sister. “Melissa has always been the nurturer in the family. I've just organized for you to stay with her for the night.”

“But I can't just descend on her!”

“Of course you can—she's looking forward to the company.”

“I'll consider it.” Avery sank deeper into the water and her nose tilted up into the air.

He started to grin. Was it possible that his little spitfire
was mad at him for doing something for her own good? “It's already sorted out.”

She glowered at him.

She was cute when she was mad, and he had a feeling she was going to be madder still. Guy pulled his shirt over his head in one, swift movement, revealing a broad, muscled chest.

“What are you doing?” Avery shrieked.

“Easing out my tired muscles.” In two paces he'd reached the door, and locked it. Next he toed off his sneakers. When he shucked off his tennis shorts, Avery closed her eyes.

He slid in behind her and pulled her up against his naked body.

“Guy!”

He kissed her nape. The skin was warm and steamy, and her hair was swept up on top of her head. Irresistible. “What?”

“You shouldn't be in here!”

They'd done this—and more—before. Already his body was hardening at the memory. But this time he had no intention of making love to her. Although Avery didn't know that. This time he just wanted to hold her.

“Give me one reason why not?”

“We work together—I don't want anyone to know we're involved.”

“I'm not going to make love to you. I came to see if you're all right.” He put on his most innocent expression, but it made no difference—she couldn't see it at this angle.

“I'm fine. And I sure thought you were making love to me. Because you're kissing the wrong part of me better.”

His husky laugh caused the soft bits of hair at her neck to dance. “I'll kiss whatever part you want me to.” He blew lightly onto her neck and felt her quiver. So responsive.

He tightened his arms convulsively around her.

“Thank goodness you're safe.”

The images that had flashed through his mind when a young woman had called to say that Avery had been involved in a car accident…

Guy shivered. He never wanted to re-live those excruciating moments.