One Week in Your Arms (15 page)

C
arson squinted as he awoke. Sunlight, pouring through the skylights, slashed across his face. He groaned. What time was it? He reached for the digital clock on the bedside table. After ten. He had definitely slept late.

Yawning, he rolled over and saw her side of the bed was empty. He frowned.

Miss Early Bird was gone. Her pillow and covers had been smoothed. Marla was nothing if not neat. He splayed his hand on the empty side of the bed and smiled. Last night had been heaven.

It had been magic. Just like at Royal Oaks. She was his dream girl, and his heart felt no hesitation. The wolves were at bay. At peace with his life, he smiled.

She was everything he wanted. Beyond her fine body and wicked sense of humor, both of which he adored, she had a considerate heart. She took her responsibilities seriously, and she had exceptional intelligence.

He loved that she was smart.

He lay back, looking at the skylights. Last night there had been a full moon, which she had observed some time after midnight. They were sprawled horizontally on the bed, recovering from their latest bout of lovemaking.

“Look. There's a full moon tonight,” she whispered.

Even though he wasn't particularly interested in the full moon at that particular moment, he'd shifted to his side. “Yep. A full moon.”

“Shakespeare said it makes men mad.”

“Shakespeare?”

“Actually, the theory is as old as mankind. People going crazy during a full moon. It's called the lunar effect. For centuries, scientists have studied the Earth's lunar cycles and human behavior during the full moon. Do you know that, at one time, surgeons wouldn't operate during a full moon because they thought the patient's blood wouldn't clot when the moon was full.”

“That does sound crazy.”

“The word, lunacy, is derived from
lunaticus
. Latin for Moonstruck,” she said. “I think we're moonstruck tonight.”

“No.” He had traced his finger between her breasts. “It's not the moon driving me crazy tonight, sweetheart.”

The moon had nothing to do with what was in his heart and what had been there since the first day they had met. Over the years, he'd had this fantasy of holding her hand as they walked through the gardens at Royal Oaks and telling her things he would never tell anyone else.

How sometimes he was overwhelmed. Nonstop meetings, appointments, traveling, cutting deals. Constant demands. People wanting this and that from him. There was only a handful of people he could trust. Sometimes, he felt so alone. Lost.

In the dream, she was the girl who held his hand and reassured him he was loved and he would never be lost. She'd always be there to hold his hand.

Those words had made everything in his life right. He was far richer than he had ever been. Love was the greatest treasure of all.

Now you're getting sappy, dude
. He grinned as he got up.
I'm entitled to be sappy. I've waited a long time for this.

He headed for the bathroom. He had heard Marla and Julia talking about some shops and clothes when they were having dinner last night. The kind of stuff women enjoy blabbing about. Knowing Marla, she'd probably gone to the gym, worked out that fit little body of hers, and met up with Julia.

The moment he entered the master bath, pleasant scents engulfed him. She had unpacked her toiletries. On the top of the marble vanity was an assortment of bottles and containers. He inspected them. There was lavender bath powder, body lotion, and soap. He sniffed it.
Nice.

There was also a citrus body wash and bath gel. A small floral bag, unzipped, had some cosmetics stored in it. He noticed some unopened samples of designer products that had come from the hotel spa.

He opened a shell-shaped bottle of cologne and took a whiff.

“Yeah.” He grinned. This was the sexy stuff. Unlike the lavender and citrus, the cologne was provocative, a sensual blend of fragrances. She needed to throw all the sweet-smelling junk away. Soak her pretty body in this scent. Come to bed wearing nothing but it. He would lose his mind.

He grinned as he retrieved his phone and called her.

“Hi there,” she answered, sounding cheerful.

“Hey,” he said in a husky voice. “I want you to come to bed tonight wearing nothing but . . .” he hesitated as he looked at the name on the perfume bottle. Damn, it was French and he wasn't sure of how to pronounce it. He grinned. “. . . that sexy stuff you had on last night.”

“You mean that sample fragrance they gave me at the spa yesterday?” She sounded disagreeable. “It's too loud.”

“Too loud?” What the hell did that mean?

“It smells like something a hooker would wear.”

He waved the bottle under his nose. “I love it,” he said stubbornly.

Another silence. Then she said, “I'm not wearing it out in public.”

“Deal.” He grinned. He would call the hotel spa and order a couple of bottles. “Is the shopping spree about over?”

“Oh, I'm not shopping.”

“What are you doing?”

“I'm working at the infirmary,” she said. “It's crazy here.”

He frowned. “What do you mean you're working?”

“Kevin called me. He had a patient with a dislocated shoulder and he's never done a manipulation before. So, I came in and taught him how to fix the guy's shoulder,” she said.

“You're supposed to be on vacation.”
You're supposed to be here with me
. “What is Kevin doing?”

“Kevin is learning from the master,” she responded.

Carson gave the bottle of French cologne a forlorn glance. “When will you be finished?”

“Right now, I've got several things going on.”

“What about breakfast? You want me to bring something there?”

“No,” she said quickly. “I don't want you to come near here. I have four patients with a stomach virus, puking all over the place. You could catch it.”

“What if
you
catch it?” She needed to take better care of herself.

“I'll be fine,” she replied. “Come to think of it, I do have a big guy here who says he has a transmitter in his rectum that was implanted by aliens. You want to help dig that out?”

“You are kidding, aren't you?” he asked tentatively.

She laughed. “Well, you wouldn't believe what people stick up there.”

“I
do not
want to know. That's information I can live without.”

She laughed again. He liked the sound of her laughter. He realized he had not heard it often enough.

“I guess I'll see if Truman wants to play some golf.”

“Sounds like a plan,” she said. “Catch you later.”

And he thought he was a workaholic.

While he was taking a shower and getting dressed, he decided Marla was going to take a vacation whether she liked it or not, and he was going to have exclusive access to her.

He tapped his phone and said, “Call Jacob Damaire.”

The hotel manager answered immediately. “Mr. Blackwell, what can I do for you?”

“I need a yacht.”

* * *

That afternoon Marla left her sanctuary. The infirmary represented all that was secure and familiar to her. It was the first place she'd gone this morning after waking up in Carson's bed. She had not wanted to think about the future and what trauma lay ahead for her.

For a while, the practice of medicine had monopolized her thoughts. She had stepped into the role of a mentor. Kevin had actually seen and treated the patients while she offered her insight. Of course, all the illnesses were minor in nature.

There were a few who needed to follow up with their physician, and she explained to Kevin the underlying conditions that might exist. It had been a thoughtful exchange between student and teacher. Mostly, she was glad to focus on someone else's problems while dismissing her own troubles.

Yet she knew she needed help.

She needed a good friend to see her through this. She checked the time. In Lafayette Falls, it would only be nine o'clock at night. Kayla would still be up.

The small garden at the hotel provided her with a quiet place to make a private telephone call. She settled on a bench inside one of the gazebos. Hidden beneath floppy elephant ear plants, white hibiscus bushes, and climbing bougainvillea, she waited for Kayla to answer.

“How's paradise?” Kayla said.

“Have you got time to talk? Doctor to patient?” she added, letting Kayla know that was not a casual call.

“Yeah. Sure,” Kayla replied, losing her cheerful tone. “Are you all right?”

“No.”

“Marla? What's going on?”

She forced out her words. “I've been living a lie for a long time. I know I have to fix it, but I know nothing will ever be the same and that scares me to death. Every time I think about it, I break out in a cold sweat.”

“Listen, there's nothing that can't be fixed,” Kayla reassured her. “It may not be as bad as you think.”

“Ben isn't Sophie's father,” Marla blurted out.

“Oh my God,” Kayla gasped.

“I've never told anyone. Not even my parents. No one knows. I buried the truth when I found out I was pregnant.”

Silence followed and Marla knew she'd stunned her best friend. “Kayla?”

“Yeah. I'm processing.” Kayla let out a breath. “Okay. Does Ben know?”

“Yes. He knows he's not her biological father,” Marla answered. “I had been seeing Ben for a couple of weeks when I found out I was pregnant.” She struggled with her explanation. “Earlier in the summer, I'd had an affair. Just a fling. Nothing serious at all. Then it was over and I needed to put it behind me. I started seeing Ben because I wanted to forget the other guy.”

“That's the classic thing women do.” Kayla offered her support. “I'd do it.”

“It seemed like the right thing to do. I knew Ben loved me, and I wanted to fall in love with him. He was the perfect guy. We'd known each other all our lives. We loved medicine. We had the same goals. It should have worked.”

“Sometimes that doesn't happen.”

“When I found out I was pregnant, I spiraled into a depression, and I felt like there was no hope. I didn't think I could make through a residency program. Not with a baby to take care of.

“I thought everything was over. I'd never be a doctor, and I knew that would kill my parents. You know, they were so proud of me. No one in my family had ever become a doctor. I started falling apart and Ben insisted we get married.

“He wouldn't let me give up. He said we could make it together with a baby. Ben saved me, but I don't know that I deserved it.”

“Marla, don't beat yourself up about that,” Kayla said. “Ben didn't have to marry you. That was his choice.”

“He was hoping I would fall in love with him, but instead, he fell out of love with me. It was never meant to be.” She sighed. “Despite everything, he's always been there for Sophie. He's the only father she knows and she loves her daddy. I don't want that to change.”

Kayla was quiet for a moment. “What about Sophie's biological father?”

“I know I have to tell him about her,” Marla wailed. “I thought about it last night. I have to do it because I know now that a child would be important to him.”

“Marla, is it the rich guy? Blackwell?”

“Yes,” Marla answered in a small voice. Then she told Kayla about the trip to Carson's house when she had found out she was pregnant. “I had planned to tell him then, but the house was like a fortress. Kayla, I ran and a part of me has been running ever since,” she confessed. “I've had nightmares about Sophie being locked away behind those gates. He can hire the best attorneys in the country. I won't stand a chance in a custody battle with him. I don't have that kind of money. I didn't have it back when I found out I was pregnant, and I don't have it now.”

“Do you think he'd sue you for custody?”

“Definitely.” She thought back to Noah and Ella Warren's father who had faced Carson's wrath for neglecting his children. “He'll take me to court and he won't give up until he wins.” Tears flooded her eyes. “Sophie is my life. I can't imagine losing her.”

“Listen, you aren't going to lose Sophie. There's no way that will happen,” Kayla said. “You're the custodial parent and Ben has rights, too. As long as you're willing to agree on visitation, the judge should rule in your favor.”

“You sound like a lawyer.”

“I'm not, but my dad is. Remember? He's one of Nashville's top attorneys. Total badass in court,” Kayla said. “And he's big on helping single moms since he was raised by one.”

“I wish I could talk to him. I think it'd make me feel better.” She felt like a patient facing the unknown. Reassurance from a professional would be a good thing.

“I'll call him tonight and tell him you need to see him.” Kayla got right on it. “You want to meet with him on Monday?”

“Yeah.” Marla rubbed her chest. “I think my heart rate is like two hundred.”

“Just calm down and breathe deeply. We'll pretend you're in labor, and you're giving birth to a soap opera.”

Marla smiled. Sometimes a ray of light came from unexpected places.

“Hold it together and don't say anything until you talk to my dad. I do know that when it comes down to the legal system, you never talk and if you do, it's deny, deny, deny. Of course, that's if you're arrested, but same difference, you know.”