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Faith beat him to it, though, and was gently examining the little boy she’d knelt next to. “Hi, sweetie, my name is Faith. I’m a doctor and saw that vase attack your head.”
The boy just kept his hands over a spot on his head and continued to cry.
“Can I see where the vase hit?” she asked, gently pulling his hands away so she could see.
Vale knelt next to her, ordered a waiter to bring them some ice and to
find Senator Evans and his wife.
“Amazingly, there isn’t a cut,” Faith voiced Vale’s thoughts and held her fingers up in front of the boy’s face. “Can you tell me how many fingers I’m holding up?”
The boy, whose sobs had begun to abate to just streams of tears running down his smudged face, stared at Faith’s fingers and said pitifully, “Two.”
“Very good,” she praised, giving him a gentle hug. “Can you follow my fingers with your eyes without moving your head?”
The boy nodded and did as she asked as she checked his visual tracking. Vale pulled out his keychain, which had a tiny flashlight on it, and handed it to her so she could check the boy’s pupil reflexes.
She did so, smiling and continuing to praise him in a voice that Vale found mesmerizing.
Watching Faith interact with the boy, give him praise and a quick hug, made him want to praise her, hug her. Made him think she’d be a good mother.
She would. Faith put her whole heart into anything she did. The thought of her body round with child, of her giving birth, of seeing her holding a baby, hit him.
He blinked, wondering what was wrong with him, wondering where his crazy thoughts had come from. He didn’t want Faith pregnant. She’d leave him.
Not him.
She’d leave the clinic, at least for a while, would devote herself to her child, to her child’s father.
Which had his throat tightening.
Was it because he knew he was her one and only lover that he felt so possessive? That he didn’t like the thought of another man touching her? Impregnating her? That he thought of her as his?
She’d been a virgin. A virgin. Because she believed no man would stick around for her. And she’d let him be her first, him, a man who never stuck around and had no intention of ever doing so. She deserved better.
Which made the grip on his throat tighten even more.
What was wrong with him? He didn’t have thoughts like this. Ever. He shook his head to clear his mind.
“Vale?”
His vision cleared, focused on where Faith stared strangely at him, the young boy now hugged up against her.
“You okay?”
“Fine,” he assured, although he wasn’t sure of any such thing.
“Here’s your light. Thanks.” She held the keychain out to him, her fingers brushing his, and desire shot through him again. “Billy doesn’t appear to have a concussion. Thank goodness.”
Vale looked into her beautiful face, into her eyes, and another wave of possessiveness hit him. A wave of protectiveness.
A wave of something he couldn’t recall ever having felt before and honestly couldn’t say he liked feeling now.
Panic clawed at him, made him want to high-tail it back to New York, back to his comfortable relationship with Faith. But memories of her saying that leaving was what men did, of the hurt in her eyes when she’d commented on her father, had him standing his ground. So he smiled at the vulnerable woman responsible for the odd feelings in his chest and reached for her hand, lifted it to his lips.
“You’re an amazing woman. I’m glad you’re here with me.”
Her brows drew together in confusion, but then a smile spread across her lovely face and he was glad he’d resisted the urge to run, because for the rest of the weekend he was going to indulge in heaven.
