About the Baby

The sudden doubt in his voice had her straightening her spine and toughening up her own voice. She wasn’t even close to being okay, but it wasn’t as though she had a choice. Not if she wanted to be able to look herself in the mirror tomorrow. Those people needed help.

“I’m perfectly fine and definitely ready to go.”

Lucas let go of her hand, made a sound of disgust deep in his throat. She glanced over at him and caught the disapproving look on his face before he could banish it. It made her panic worse, but she refused to let herself be swayed by it.

With Lucas looking on like that, she knew there was no way she’d be able to finish her discussion with her boss. She turned her back on him and walked a few steps away.

“I’ve got this,” she continued, forcing steel into a reassurance that she was far from feeling. “But you have to promise me that barring a full-on revolution, you’re not going to pull me out in the middle of this.”

“Steward—”

“No, Paul. I mean it.” She put it in terms she knew he would understand. “This is the case I’ve been waiting my whole career for. You can’t put me down in the middle of it and then pull me out when it’s convenient for you. I can’t work like that. I won’t work like that.”

“You’ll work how I tell you to work!” he snapped, but then his voice softened. “Look, I know what happened in Somalia was bullshit, but you have to get past it. Eritrea is a whole different game.”

She wanted to laugh, but nothing was funny. Eritrea and Somalia, Ethiopia and Sudan, they were all the same game. All different sides of the same dice. And the Western world had spent the better part of two centuries rolling that dice just to see what number would come up. She was a fool to think this would be any different, but she had to. She had to believe it or there was no way she’d be able to get on that airplane.

Her prolonged silence must have made Paul nervous, because his voice was hesitant when he asked, “Steward? Are you still there? I didn’t lose you, did I?”

For long seconds she considered not answering, just letting the call drift away. But then where would she be? Where would any of them be?

“I’m still here.”

“Good. Okay, then, I’ll see you at ten. In the meantime, I’m going to put pressure on the Eritrean government to give me all the stats and info they have.”

“Which won’t be much.”

“No. But I’ll try to have a decent report together for you by the time you take off.”

“Thank you.”

“I should be thanking you. And Steward…”

She braced herself for words of comfort she didn’t know if she could handle hearing. “Yes?”

“Don’t screw up out there.”

She laughed. She should have known better than to think Paul had gotten in touch with his softer side.

“I’ll do my best.”

She hung up the phone and dropped it back into her bag. Then just stood for a minute gazing out into the night.

She wasn’t ready to look at Lucas. She didn’t know if it was because of that strange, magical kiss they’d shared minutes before or whether it was because he could so easily see through her. She’d thought she’d shored up her defenses pretty well before seeing him, but in one evening he’d shattered them and had her blubbering like a baby. She was afraid if she turned to face him now it would be an instant replay, and she couldn’t take that. She’d already cried all over him like some kind of high-maintenance whiner. Doing it twice in one evening was just a bad idea.

Besides, if she faced him, she’d have to think of something to say and right now her mind was blank.

Lucas didn’t seem to be suffering from the same affliction, though. “Ebola?” he asked. “A mutant strain of Ebola?”

“Maybe. We don’t know yet. I probably shouldn’t have had that conversation in front of you.”

“Yeah, because I’m going to go blabbing to the whole medical community about this.” He clasped her elbow, and when she still didn’t face him, he placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her until there was no place else for her to look but into his eyes.

“You really think you’re in shape to do this kind of thing?” he demanded. “This isn’t a simple assignment, Kara. If you take it, you’re in it for the long-term and you know it.”

“It’s not a choice, Lucas. I’m the one Paul assigned. I have to go.”

Lucas cursed then, something low and vile and violent. “You know that’s not true. You can beg off if you want to. You just got back, for God’s sake. You need time to rest, to get your head back in the game. Hell, you were just talking about leaving the CDC.”

“Yes, talking about it. I hadn’t decided yet—and I still haven’t. Until I do, I follow Paul’s orders. Anyway, my head is already in the game, thank you very much. I can do this. I have to do this, and you telling me I’m not up for it only undermines me.”

“You know I think you’re brilliant. That’s not the point—”

“It is exactly the point,” she snapped. Then relented with a sigh. “Please, let’s not do this. Is flying out barely forty-eight hours after I got back an ideal situation? Not at all. I know it. Paul knows it. And it actually goes against protocol. But emergencies happen and this is what I do. I’m the best suited to go. And none of us wants to be sitting here in six months, looking at a worldwide Ebola epidemic because the CDC didn’t send in the right people.”

She bent down, picked up her shoes. “Now, if you could take me home, I would greatly appreciate it.”

For long seconds Lucas didn’t answer and she was just beginning to wonder if she was going to have to catch a cab when he said, “Come on. Let’s go.”

He started toward the exit without waiting for her—which was a totally un-Lucas thing to do. It illustrated just how angry and frustrated he was with her. Which bothered her, but it wasn’t like there was anything she could do about it. Frankly, she had other, more pressing things to worry about.

They walked back up the hill without ever finding the swings, and the trip up the large grassy knoll was a lot less fun than the one down had been. Especially with Lucas grim faced and angry beside her. She wanted to call him on it. To ask him why he was getting himself so worked up. But that strange and powerful kiss had made her shy with him, had turned the easy camaraderie they’d always shared into something stiff and awkward.

As they walked, Kara waited for him to say something to break the silence. But he didn’t say a word. Not as they hiked the hill, not as they climbed the fence—though this time he gave her a boost—and not as they walked down the nearly empty streets of downtown.

It was sixty degrees out and she was still wearing his jacket, but she couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this cold.

By the time Lucas paid the valet and held the car door open for her—all without saying a word—she was fuming. And more hurt than she wanted to admit.

This was why she never opened herself up to people, she seethed. Why she never let them in. Because the first time you did, the first time you started to take for granted the fact that they would always be there for you, you did something they didn’t like and they pulled away. Locked you out.

It had happened her entire life. When her mom would get angry she would shut down, withholding her affection until Kara fell into line. And after her mom died and she’d been forced to return to her dad’s house during college vacations, she’d learned that her father’s love was only as deep as her latest accomplishment. Why she’d expected better from Lucas, she didn’t know.

Because he was her friend, a voice whispered in the back of her head. Because he’d always been there for her. But now, the second she’d broken the unwritten rules that governed their relationship—she’d kissed him and cried all over him in one night—he was pulling back. Getting angry the moment she had the nerve to do something he didn’t like.

The worst part was that it hurt. A lot. Because she hadn’t been expecting it. Because she’d broken her own rules over the years and had learned to trust Lucas implicitly. And yet here she was, here they were, right back where a part of her had always known they’d end up.

Once in front of her house, she barely waited for him to stop the car before she was opening the door and lunging for her front porch. “Thanks,” she called over her shoulder. “I’ll…call you when I get back.”

She just needed to get inside. If she made it inside her front door without letting him see how hurt she was, everything would be fine. She had a lot to do and very little time to do it in. Once he was gone, she wouldn’t even have time to think about him.

But she’d barely opened the door when he caught up with her. “What the hell is this?”

Her anger got the better of her. “Oh, so you do talk,” she said snidely.

His teeth ground together, his eyes shooting sparks of rage straight through her. She gave as good as she got, then muttered through her own clenched jaw, “I think it’s time for you to go.”

“Yeah, because that’s really going to happen.”

“Lucas—”

“Don’t start, Kara. I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to talk about this. And if you still decide to go, you’ll need a ride to the CDC.”

“Still decide to go? I am going, and I can get myself to work just fine, thank you. I’ve been doing it for the last ten years of my life without any problems.”

“Damn it, Kara. You don’t always have to be so independent. Can’t you see that I’m worried about you?”

Of course he was. St. Lucas, worried about everyone. She hurt a little inside hearing the words. Not because she was upset that he cared, but because everything had changed between them in the space of one evening.

She never should have cried. For seventeen years their friendship had been based on the fact that she didn’t need him. Lucas didn’t mind being needed—by his mother, his sister, his girlfriends, his patients. He thrived on it, really. But at the same time, her independence helped him put distance between himself and the demanding women in his life.

There’d never been any need for distance between Kara and Lucas—at least not before tonight. And she was smart enough to know that it wasn’t the kiss—it was what had come before it. Now, here he was, feeling like he had a right to tell her what to do. Somehow she’d become just another woman who needed him to save her.

“Look,” she finally told him as she stepped into the house. “I appreciate your concern, but I don’t need it.”

He followed her in. “You’re not thinking clearly—”

She whirled on him, got in his face. “Don’t tell me how I’m thinking. I was upset earlier. That doesn’t make me less competent. I don’t need you to save me, Lucas.”

“Is that what you think I want to do? Save you?”

“It sure looks that way to me.”

“Well, then, you don’t know a damn thing, do you?”

CHAPTER FIVE

THEIRANGRYWORDSECHOED in Kara’s foyer, bouncing off the walls and making him want to tear his hair out. What had gotten into her? One minute he was trying to help her deal with the fact that her job was a nightmare and the next minute she was kissing him. And the minute after that she was accepting an assignment to head right back into a hot zone. And not just any hot zone—no, not for Kara. She was heading straight into Ebola hell and wouldn’t even acknowledge that it was a bad idea. He just wanted her to admit—

What? he asked himself angrily. What exactly did he want from Kara? For her to break down again and admit that the idea of going to Eritrea scared the hell out of her? God knows, it scared the shit out of him. Normally she seemed so indestructible, but listening to her heartache, holding her while she cried…it had gotten to him. Really gotten to him, in a way few things did anymore. She seemed so much more vulnerable now than she ever had before.

Add in that bizarre, mind-blowing kiss they’d just shared and he couldn’t quite get his mind around any of this.

If someone had told him three hours ago that they’d be here, nose to nose, both of them spoiling for a fight, he would have thought that person was insane. Not that he and Kara never fought—of course they did. She had a redhead’s temper and he was as stubborn as they came. But none of their previous fights had this bruised quality, this resentment simmering right below the surface.

And he might not know much about what the hell was going on, but he knew this. He didn’t want Kara to head out with things like this between them. Who knew how long it would be before he’d get the chance to see her again?

Blowing out a huge breath, he bit the bullet and lied to her for the first time in all the years he’d known her. “I’m sorry.”

The look in her eye turned from furious to confused and for long seconds she didn’t answer. “That’s it?” she asked finally.

“I’m really sorry?” When she didn’t immediately answer, he ran an impatient hand through his hair. “Jeez, Kara, what do you want? Blood?”

He half expected her to jump down his throat again, but she must have found what she was looking for—if not in his words, then his face—because she suddenly relaxed. “No, but if you’re offering, some of your sweat should work nicely.”

“My sweat?” he asked, wondering if he looked as lost as he felt.

She turned and headed down the hall to her bedroom. “I’ve got a couple trunks filled with gear stored at the top of my closet. Can you get them down

for me?”

“Yeah, sure.”

He followed her through the house feeling a shock similar to the aftermath of a car crash. It wasn’t unusual for Kara to explode and then simmer down quickly, but this was fast even for her. Any second now, he expected to start feeling the symptoms of whiplash.

“The boxes are up there,” she said, pointing to the large walk-in closet at the end of her bathroom.

He followed her directions, feeling a little awkward being in this most private room of hers. Which was ridiculous. It wasn’t like he’d never been here before—he was the one who’d helped her move her furniture in, after all. The one who’d painted these walls their current shade of sky-blue. But that was different. That was before the room had turned into this sultan’s paradise with the luxurious turquoise quilt and silver throw pillows.

Before a red lace bra-and-panty set had been draped across the foot of her bed.

Before he’d kissed her.

Studiously avoiding looking at her bed—which was more difficult said than done because the thing was huge and dominated the entire room—he headed into her closet and reached for the first trunk. It was a lot heavier than he thought it would be.

“Hey,” he said as he carried it back into the bedroom. “How the hell did you get this thing up there to begin with?”

“Mike put them up for me. I haven’t needed them in a while.”

He stiffened at the mention of her last serious boyfriend—the one she’d almost married. He’d never liked Mike, had thought the guy was a pompous ass more concerned with his reputation in the field than he was in the actual work he did. Lucas had been thrilled when things didn’t work out. Mike was nowhere near good enough for her and the idea that she would now be taking over his team was just one more thing Lucas didn’t like about this trip.

Dropping the first load onto the floor, he went back into the closet and got the second trunk down. It was even heavier than the first. “What’s in here, anyway?”

“My on-location biosafety suits.”

Right. Of course. Because she was going to need the huge positive-pressure suit if she was heading into a situation where a disease like Ebola might have turned airborne. When she worked in the CDC labs, or any other well-equipped labs, they provided the suits for her. But who knew what she was heading into now.

His chest tightened and he walked to the window, staring blindly into the night. He knew her job was dangerous, knew she regularly dealt with things that could kill her. But she’d had every vaccination there was, so that when she went into the field after cholera or TB, there was little to no chance she would get it—especially with proper precautions.

But this, this was something totally different. There was no vaccine for Ebola and even if there had been, who knew what would happen with exposure to this strange new strain? Any tolerance built up to it would mean absolutely nothing.

A part of him was aware that Kara was still talking about something, but it was like she was far away. For the first time in his life, he wished he wasn’t a doctor. Wished he didn’t know exactly what it was she was heading into. Because knowing what could happen, thinking about it, had him paralyzed with fear.

“Don’t go.” The words came out before he knew he was going to say them, interrupting her in the middle of a sentence about something or other.

“Lucas.”

He spun around and stalked across the room toward her, feeling like a crazy man. Feeling like he was going to jump out of his skin any second.

“Please,” he begged, barely recognizing himself. “I have a bad feeling about this trip and I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you, Kara. Please don’t go.”

He grabbed on to her shoulders and pulled her into his arms so that her heart beat steadily against his. Then he buried his face in her hair and just breathed, inhaling the sweet strawberry-and-magnolia scent deep into his lungs. He was acting like a maniac—he knew he was—but he couldn’t seem to do anything to stop it. From the second he’d heard the word Ebola, his whole world had spun out of control.

“I’m going to be fine, Lucas.” She murmured the words against his neck because she couldn’t move. Couldn’t pull back. He was holding her too tightly but he couldn’t seem to ease up. “You know I’m careful.”

“There’s careful and then there’s insane, Kara. This is insane.”

“No. It’s my job.” She shoved against his chest but he wasn’t budging. At that moment, he thought he could hold her forever if she’d let him. “You think I don’t worry about you?” she asked. “Every day you go to work in the closest thing to a war zone that the U.S. has to offer. Less than a year ago you had a shooting in the lobby of your clinic and you ran straight into it.”

“That was different. My patients—”

“I know. Your patients were out there and there was no way you were going to leave them at the hands of some coked-up teenager with a gun. But those people in Eritrea, they’re my patients. If I can help them, Lucas, then I have to go.”

Kara struggled against him, managing to pull back just enough to lift her soft, delicate hands to his face. As she held him, she looked deeply into his eyes and said, “I need to go.”

He knew it, had known it all along. And still, “You’re my best friend. I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t.”

“Promise me,” he told her, knowing he sounded desperate but not giving a damn. He was desperate. She meant more to him than he ever could have imagined.

“Lucas—”

“Promise me!”

“I promise.” She looked him straight in the eye, her green eyes shining with sincerity and compassion and something else he couldn’t quite define. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

He shuddered, nodded. Dropped his head so that his forehead rested against hers. Then closed his eyes and just breathed.

He didn’t know how long they stayed like that, locked in their own little world. Not long enough, because when she finally stepped back he was still not ready to let her go. Wrapping a hand around her long, slender neck, he pulled her face back to his and, for the second time that night, captured her lips with his own.

If he was going to have to let her go, going to have to spend the next weeks and months racked with

terror that she was going to die in Africa, he was not letting her leave without having something to hang on to. He’d broken off the kiss in the park when her phone rang, and he’d regretted it ever since. No matter what happened, no matter how it shifted things between them, he was going to have this kiss untainted by fear or sorrow or regret. They owed each other that much.

But he wasn’t counting on the way they both lit up the second their mouths touched. Like the Fourth of July and New Year’s Eve all at the same time. It was as though her mouth had been made for his.

That was the first thought that ran through his mind as he deepened the kiss.

The second was that she tasted like she smelled. Like strawberries and caramel and rich, sweet cream.

The third was that he wouldn’t mind staying right here, kissing her, for the next decade or so. He had a lot of time to make up for, after all.

But just because he was acting like an idiot didn’t mean he really was one. So, despite the fact that every instinct he had was pushing at him to stay exactly where he was, he reluctantly pulled away.

Though every cell in his body screamed for another, longer taste of her, he figured he should check with Kara first. Make sure she was okay with this—or at the very least, not planning to smash her fist into the side of his head for overstepping his boundaries.

“What…” Her voice trailed off as she pressed shaky fingers to her mouth. When he didn’t answer—he couldn’t because he had no idea what to say—she tried again. “What was that?”

Any hope that she felt the same way he did dissipated under the shocked weight of her question. “I’m sorry,” he said, stepping away from her. “Maybe we can chalk this up to too much champagne?”

“Neither of us has had a drink in hours.”

“The stars?” He pointed toward the skylight above her bed.

“We already discussed the fact that there aren’t any.”

“Could you at least work with me here?” he finally asked her. “I’m grasping at straws.”

“I can tell.” She inched closer to him, pressing forward so that her chest brushed lightly against his. Heat streaked through him all over again. “The question is why you feel the need to?”

“I already apologized. I’m not sure what else to say.” He looked down at her, tried to gauge her mood. She was looking up at him so that her full lips were a scant few inches from his own. As she exhaled, he could feel her warm breath brush over him.

His entire body tightened at the sensation, until the simple act of breathing hurt. He wanted another sample of her, wanted to delve inside her mouth and explore the taste and scent and touch of her until he’d satisfied the craving that had been years in the making.

He tightened his hands into fists, fought the desire back. His temper tantrum about her leaving for Eritrea had already put them on shaky ground. Kissing her had made things even less stable. Doing it again might send her running. After all, she’d done her level best to ignore the kiss they’d shared in the park. For her to run from him was the absolute last thing he wanted. He’d rather have Kara’s friendship than nothing at all.

“Who says you have to say anything? It was just a kiss, right?”

“Yeah.” He forced the words out between clenched teeth. “Just a kiss.”

“I mean, it’s not like you really laid one on me or anything.” She leaned in even closer.

He couldn’t help wondering what kind of kisses she was used to if she qualified what had passed between them as just a kiss. Maybe he’d underestimated old Mike.

The thought of Mike made him angry and he stepped back from her. Tried to turn away. The last thing he needed right now was to hear about other, better kisses she’d received from men she was more sexually attracted to than him.

She moved with him, though, as he retreated one step, two, until his back was—literally—against her bedroom wall. The warning bells he’d heard in the park had returned and they were clanging at top volume. But the fact that all the blood in his body had rushed about three feet south of his head made it impossible to pay any attention to them at all.

“It’s not,” she continued her earlier train of thought, “like you did this.”

And then she was kissing him, her lips soft and warm and open against his own.