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The man had cooked her breakfast, made wonderful love to her until they’d both cried out. Afterwards, he’d held her. Held her tightly to him, stroking his fingers across her belly. She’d wished she’d known what he’d been thinking, wished she’d known if his caress had been incidental or if he’d purposely touched her where their baby grew.
She stood, intending to help clear away the dishes, but Dirk motioned for her to sit.
“I’m pregnant, Dirk, not disabled. You cooked. I clean.”
“No.” He shook his head, pointing at her chair. “My treat.”
Okay, part of her thrilled at the idea that he was pampering her. Had she ever been pampered in her life? She didn’t think so. Not since her mom and dad had died.
“I can wash dirty dishes,” she assured him, not wanting the way he’d treated her at work to extend into her home. She wasn’t an invalid. “Besides, you really didn’t make that much of a mess. It won’t take but a jiffy to clean.”
“Probably not, but today is my treat. Take a load off, Abby.”
She stood next to her chair, eyeing him, yet again wishing she could read his thoughts. “Why?”
“What do you mean, why? Can’t I do something nice for you without you ques
tioning my motives?”
She bit into her lower lip. “Is it because you feel guilty?”
“I am guilty, but that’s not why I’m here.”
His blue eyes looked so sincere. “Then why?”
He leaned back in his chair, looked perplexed, then shrugged. “I want to spend time with you.”
“Because I’m pregnant?”
He studied her a moment. “I’ve wanted to be with you from the moment we met, Abby. That’s how you ended up pregnant.”
“I’m pregnant because we had a horrible night in the E.R.” She didn’t remind him of the similarities to his own tragic losses. She understood why he hadn’t wanted to be alone, forgave him for using her, found herself wanting to comfort him even more now that she understood why he’d been so deeply affected. But that wasn’t what earlier had been about, was it?
“I’ve had horrible nights in the E.R. before and never slept with my nurse.”
Why did that admission make her feel better, lighter, less used?
“If the attraction hadn’t been so strong between us, no tragedy would have brought us together like that.” His confident tone left no room for doubt. “I made love to you because I wanted to make love to you. Just as I wanted to make love to you today. When I look at you, I can’t think about much of anything except having you.”
Had he really just admitted that he wanted her? She’d thought so, but then the whole pregnancy issue had clouded her thinking yesterday and this morning. But he had wanted her. He’d said made love, not have comfort sex or one-night-stand sex or guilt sex.
“And now?” she asked, grabbing at the rope he was throwing her, hoping it was long enough to save her, hoping she wasn’t grasping at straws. “Months went by with you barely acknowledging I existed outside work.”
“I want you, if that’s what you’re asking. I never stopped wanting you. After what we just shared, surely you don’t doubt that.” His eyes caressed her face. “You’re beautiful, Abby.”
“You told me I looked awful,” she reminded him.
“That was pre-shower.” His tone was teasing, but his eyes remained dark, stormy. “You’re always beautiful, Abby. You must know that.”
“Thank you,” she said. How could she not believe him when his gaze echoed his words? Dirk really did find her beautiful. He really did want her and really had made love to her.
Christmas miracles never ceased.
“But we can’t repeat what just happened. Not when we’re just friends.”
She stood corrected.
Apparently, Christmas miracles did cease.
