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What was that she’d said at the Christmas party?
Maybe not intentionally.
She’d been right. He had hurt her. They just hadn’t known it at the time. But he refused to accept her assessment that he knew nothing about her.
“I know more than you think. You’re a great nurse. A caring woman. A fantastic lover.” Her lower lip disappeared into her mouth, vulnerability shining so brightly in her eyes it almost blinded him. “And I believe you’re going to be a great mother to our baby.”
The tears Abby had been fighting pricked her eyes. How dared he come into her house and spout off sweet words like that after the awful morning she’d spent tossing and turning on the sofa? The sofa because she hadn’t been able to get comfortable in her bed, had given up and curled up in the living room, staring at her mother’s Christmas village pieces, wishing she could lose herself in that happy little world. Finally, she’d dozed a little.
She loved nursing and liked to believe he was right, that she was a great nurse. She could also go with the caring woman. She did care about others. But a fantastic lover? What a joke.
“We both know I wasn’t a fantastic lover.” She snorted softly at the mere idea of him thinking her fantastic. Not that he’d complained but, still, she doubted she’d been fantastic or anywhere close.
“Yes, you were, Abby.” He set the bag on her coffee table, squatted next to her and reached for her hand.
“So fantastic you couldn’t run away fast enough.” She stuck her hands under the blanket, anywhere to keep him from touching her. She couldn’t think when he did that. Not that she was thinking clearly anyway. Not after discovering she was going to be a mother, not sleeping much, and crying a whole lot.
He touched her anyway, running his fingers along the side of her face, into the edges of her wild-about-her-head hair. “So fantastic just remembering takes my breath away.”
Why did she want to lean against him? To toss the blanket away and fall into his arms and cry until there were no more tears left?
“Why are you here, Dirk?” she asked, wishing he’d go, would leave her to what so far had been a less than stellar day. “Just go home.”
“Can’t do,” he said, shaking the burgeoning plastic bag he’d put on the coffee table. “I brought you breakfast. Or lunch.” He glanced a
t his wristwatch. “Or dinner. Whatever you want to call it. Regardless, I’m going to make you a healthy meal.”
Just the thought of breakfast made her stomach heave. She grimaced. “Food is the last thing I want right now.”
“You have to eat.”
She rolled her eyes. “What would be the point?”
He stared at her for long moments and when she met his gaze, his were so intent she couldn’t look away even though she desperately wanted to.
“Abby, you’ve got to stop arguing with me.”
She bit the inside of her lip. “Who’s arguing?”
Stroking his fingers along the side of her face, he sighed. “This is certainly a side of you I’ve never seen.”
She was sure it was a side he wished he still hadn’t seen. Unbrushed hair, makeup-less face, nauseated-all-morning pallor. She wouldn’t win any beauty prizes on her best days. Today she might send small children running for the hills.
“No one invited you here or is making you stay,” she reminded him, chin lifting.
But rather than take offense at her unusual surliness, he just smiled, as if he knew some secret she didn’t.
“Go take a shower. You’ll feel better.” Another of those dazzling smiles that it really wasn’t fair for him to be flashing when she felt so… What was it she felt? Hadn’t she decided the other night at the hospital that their baby was a gift? One that she’d treasure? But right now Dirk’s smile, his gorgeous face and body, just annoyed her. How dared he look so wonderful when she felt so awful?
“I’ll slice fresh fruit and cook breakfast.” He leaned forward, dropped a kiss at her temple, lingered a brief moment.
Oh, my. If she didn’t know better she’d swear he was breathing in her scent.
“How do you like your eggs, Abby?” Oh, he’d definitely nuzzled her just then, his hot breath caressing her cheek, burning her all the way down to her toes.
“Have you not heard a word I’ve said? I don’t want breakfast. I don’t want a shower.” Well, a long shower would be nice and the hot water might ease her achy body. “I just want to be left alone.”
He cupped her face, holding her gaze to his. “No.”
