If Wishes Were...Daddies Read online

Page 5


  If he knew what was good for him, he’d turn around, walk to his car and go straight back to his hotel. With luck, he could get a flight to Italy tomorrow. He’d done what he came to do. He’d ‘apologized to her. It was over. Finito. She wanted a husband, and he wasn’t looking for a wife. That’s all. It wasn’t a crime that he didn’t want to get married. Lots of people didn’t. He liked his life just fine the way it was.

  He was a free man. He could come and go as he pleased. If he felt like going to Paris for a night, he went. If he wanted to buy something, he bought it. How many married men could say the same thing?

  He’d watched his cousins marry, one by one. They all used to play soccer on the weekends. No more. Their wives wanted them home. They used to go to the bistro and drink. No more of that, either. “Wives,” he said aloud, making it sound like a dirty word. “Only fools get wives.”

  He turned, glad to have this ugly episode over, and walked back to the Porsche. She’d want him to get a sensible car. American women all wanted mini-vans. Not him. He would rather die. He opened the door and got in, and cursed again as his head hit the frame. Rubbing the sore spot, he looked back at the elevator door, and this time, he cursed in English.

  Finally, the pounding in his head stopped and he slipped the key into the ignition. But there his hand stilled. An image of his cousin Carlo came to him. Carlo with his wife Sophia. He had to admit, Carlo was a new man since he’d found her. He was happy, as happy a man as Nick had ever known. The way he looked at Sophia was something Nick had thought a lot about There was a contentment in his cousin that made Nick too aware of his own restlessness.

  So he had freedom. He also had loneliness. It wasn’t so much fun, flying off every week, as it had been in the beginning. Hotel rooms. Packing and unpacking. Restaurants and taxis, and setting his watch. Even the women had started to blur together. Except Jessica.

  She was different from all the others. He tried to figure out why, but there wasn’t a specific reason. Her hair, maybe? Soft and beautiful, with all those different shades of red? Her laugh? When she let go, there was no sound like it in the world. Or perhaps it was the way she loved her lists. Those lists. He’d seen one by accident. Pros on one side, cons on the other. The subject had been him. Whether she should go out with him again. The cons had outweighed the pros by quite a bit. She didn’t know him. He was too smooth. She wasn’t sure if he wanted just sex, or more. And yet she’d gone out with him, anyway. Why?

  Then he remembered the pros. It had made him a little nervous, when he’d seen that side of the page. Only two things had been written down. The first—she liked him. That one had been okay. It was the second that had made him sorry he’d seen the list at all. He makes me feel. She’d underlined the word feel four times.

  He looked again at the elevator doors. The truth was, she made him feel. He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. But if he left now, he’d never know.

  JESSICA NIBBLED ON a cracker as she stared at the television set. Some news program was on, but she wasn’t really watching it. She was too busy feeling miserable. Not because she felt sick again, but because of Nick.

  Why was she so upset? Her decision had been completely sound. They wanted different things from life. He was a playboy. He’d never be the kind of husband she wanted or needed. He’d never be any kind of husband!

  She really did believe he’d be a good, if infrequent, father. Nick would never abandon any child of his. She laughed, spraying some cracker on her lap. As she wiped her skirt, she realized that Nick might already be a father. Maybe he had children all over the world! Wouldn’t that be a kick in the pants.

  Once again, she cursed her luck. She’d been so careful, too. They’d used a condom. All three times! She should have done more. She should never had made love with him. It had been irrational. Emotional. Foolish. She’d ignored all her own advice, all her lists, and let her heart lead the way. And here she was—pregnant, nauseous and alone.

  Of course, she had Jeff and the other guys at the office. She could just imagine how excited they were going to be about the baby. Like all four of them were going to be the father, instead of Nick. She’d wanted to tell them a hundred times, but she’d held off. It didn’t feel right to give them the news before she told Nick. But she could already picture what they’d do. Jeff would want to design the nursery. And what a nursery it would be. He’d go nuts. Pull out all the stops. She smiled. Jeff would be there for her. No matter what.

  So would the others. Even Stan. Stan, who acted like the tough guy, but who treated her like a princess. Her boys. Her wonderful boys.

  Of all the situations for a single mom to be in, she had it made. So what if she didn’t get along with her mother? She had four wonderful friends who were her family now. The baby would be showered with love.

  So why did she feel so darn awful? She got up to put the crackers in the kitchen and get ready for bed. The knock on the door startled her so badly she dropped the crackers on the floor. Then her heart started pounding in her chest. What if it was Nick? What if he’d come back, if he’d meant those words he’d shouted in the garage?

  No. It was probably Jeff. Or Stan. She left the mess on the floor and went to the door. Standing on tiptoe, she looked through the peep hole. It was Nick. Oh, God.

  He knocked again, and she pulled the door open.

  “Hello, cara mia.”

  “Hello.”

  “May I come in?”

  She hesitated, but only for a second. “Okay.”

  Nick walked past her, and she closed the door behind him. She couldn’t believe that her pulse could race like this. It was crazy. Why did she continue to hope for a miracle, when miracles never happened?

  “Can I get you something?”

  He stepped on the package of crackers, and she quickly bent to pick it up. “Sorry.”

  “Let me,” he said, bending next to her.

  They grabbed for the box at the same time, and his hand brushed hers. A jolt went through her, from fingers to toes. He looked up at her, startled. So he’d felt it, too.

  His hand moved until he’d covered hers. His gaze never left her own. She grew dizzy, but it was Nick’s eyes that threw her off balance. The longing she saw in those dark brown depths.

  He leaned toward her, and she knew he was going to kiss her. She should get up. Run. Hide. His kisses were dangerous. They made her forget herself. Forget everything in the world. But she didn’t run. She closed her eyes and leaned forward.

  The second his lips touched hers, she was a goner. Nick’s mouth, Nick’s taste, Nick’s scent—they all conspired to steal her breath away.

  Gently at first, he explored her, running his tongue ever so lightly over her lips, then he wasn’t gentle anymore. She moaned as he kissed her hard, deeply, with a passion that woke the most sensitive parts of her body.

  His hand went to the back of her neck and held her steady as he lifted her so he could move in closer. Both on their knees, now pressed together, his other hand stole around her. waist. She felt him now, his hard chest against her breasts, his stomach, his thighs, and the hard proof that he, too, remembered making love. Remembered how he fit inside her, how their bodies seemed made for each other.

  No one had ever kissed her like this. And she’d never responded with such abandon. Her tongue teased, tasted, licked, wanting more and more. When his hand moved from her neck to her breast, she trembled. He knew how to touch her in a way that shot down her defenses, that thrilled her beyond thinking. This man, this father of her—

  She broke the kiss, pushing herself back, away. Before he had a chance to protest, she got to her feet, taking the package of crumbled crackers with her.

  Not daring to look at him, she went to the kitchen. She heard him get up, but she waited to turn until her breathing became normal and the heat left her cheeks.

  “What happened?” he asked, his voice still coarse and low.

  “We shouldn’t have done that.” She faced him but kep
t her distance. “Why did you come up here, Nick?”

  “I don’t want this to be the end, Jessica.”

  “Why not? What is it you want?”

  He swiped his hand over his face, then stared down at the floor as if gathering his thoughts. Finally, he looked back at her, his gaze sober. “I’m not sure. I know, that’s not a good answer. You want something concrete, a promise, but I can’t give you that. Not because I don’t want to. I’d like to say I want the same things you do, but...” He took a step toward her. “I want time, Jessica. Time to know you better. Time to learn what we have.”

  The urge to just say yes was strong, but that was her heart talking, not her head. Her heart, which had brought her to this place, which had tricked her into believing too much already. She knew enough about Nick to realize he wasn’t the man she needed in her life, no matter how much she wanted him. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea.”

  “Why not, cara?”

  “I can’t see a happy ending here, Nick. No matter how you slice it, I’ll still be me, and you’ll still be you.”

  “What about an us?”

  She shook her head. “Us? No, I don’t think so. You’ll be off somewhere. I’ll be here.”

  “That doesn’t mean it can’t work. Lots of people spend time apart, but they still—”

  “Love each other? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “I...” He inhaled deeply, then let his breath out slowly. “I don’t know. That’s why I want the time. To see. I’ve never been in love, Jessica. Not the kind we’re talking about. I don’t know what it’s like. All I’m sure of is that I don’t want to let you go.”

  “You’re asking a lot. More than I’m willing to give.”

  “I don’t understand. I know you care for me. I know it. Jessica, mi amore, you came to Rome. You climbed the trellis. It has to mean something.”

  “It does. I won’t deny it. I do care for you, but that’s the trouble, don’t you see? For you, it’s an experiment. If it doesn’t work out, you get on your jet and fly away. No big deal.”

  “No big deal? You underestimate yourself, Jessica. You are a very big deal, indeed.”

  She shook her head, struggling not to give in. She had to be smart now. So much was at stake. The one thing she knew for sure was that no matter what, Nick wasn’t going to change. People didn’t change. Maybe he wanted to, but that wasn’t enough. Even if he did think he loved her, there would always be that next trip to Paris, or New York, or Athens, and he would find another Gina or Libby. He wouldn’t mean to hurt her, but he would. And she would be here, with their child, always wondering. She wouldn’t do that to herself, or the baby.

  “Please, Jessica. Give me a chance. That’s all I’m asking for.”

  “We had our chance, Nick.”

  “Oh, no. That one moment? That one trick of the gods? It was a coincidence, that’s all. A one-in-a-million accident.”

  “It was a sign. A very big neon sign. I saw the way you looked at Libby and Gina. You cared for them, too, Nick.”

  “Not like I feel for you, Jessica.”

  “No? You said you loved us all. Remember?”

  He sighed. “Yes. But I came back for you.” He walked to her, and she instinctively stepped back until the kitchen counter stopped her. He took her arms in his hands and captured her gaze. “I came back for you, Jessica. Don’t send me away before we begin. Take the risk, cara.” He kissed her, once, hard, molding his body to hers, letting her feel his heat and his need. Then he pulled back, but only a little. “Don’t be afraid to feel.”

  She shook her head and tore herself out of his grasp. “I am afraid,” she said. “I don’t want to feel, don’t you get it? Because all I end up feeling is hurt. I can’t do that, Nick. I won’t.”

  “I’m taking a risk, too,” he said softly. “You’re not the only one who has something to lose.”

  “It’s not the same.”

  “Why? You think because I’m a man, I don’t get hurt?”

  “Not because you’re a man. Because you’re you.”

  “That’s not true, Jessica. You don’t know me well enough to say that.”

  “But I do. You’re not the only one who can read people, Nick. I know who you are. You’re a man who lives for the moment. Who needs his freedom. Who doesn’t want to be held down by anything or anyone. Nick, you’re a pilot because you love it. You don’t need the money. You fly because it’s the fastest getaway car in the world.”

  “I’m not flying now. I’m right here.”

  “What about tomorrow?”

  “I can’t give you any guarantees. Life doesn’t work that way.”

  “I know where I’ll be tomorrow. And the next day, and the day after.”

  “Jessica, life can change in a heartbeat. The only thing you can know with certainty is that it will change.”

  “But there still has to be something you can count on. I can count on my job. My friends. I can count on myself, Nick.” She turned away from him, hit suddenly by a wave of nausea so strong she thought she might lose it. Walking quickly to her couch, she steadied herself with one hand while she pressed her stomach with the other.

  “What’s wrong?” Nick was at her side in an instant.

  She shook her head, unable to speak, struggling to regain her equilibrium. She didn’t want to lose it now. Not now.

  “You’re ill. I’ll call a doctor.”

  “No,” she said, but that’s all she could say.

  “You’re white like a ghost.” He went to the phone and picked it up. “I’m calling an ambulance. Now.”

  “No, Nick. Don’t. I’m okay.”

  “That is not okay.” He kept the phone in his hand as he walked up to her again. He put his other hand on her forehead. “No fever, but you’re sweating. Jessica, it could be something serious. Your appendix. I know the symptoms. I’ve had passengers on my flights who were sick like you. They needed immediate medical attention.”

  “It’s not that.” Oh, Lord, she wasn’t going to make it. Her stomach lurched again and she ran to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

  Nick stared at the closed door. If Jessica thought he was going to stand by and do nothing while she could be dying, she was crazy. He had seen this before. A man’s appendix had burst on a flight from Italy to New York. He’d nearly died.

  He walked over to the bathroom and knocked on the door. “Are you all right?”

  He got no response. Well, not in words. What he did hear made him grimace. The only other times he’d seen people sick like this was when the turbulence was terrible. Or sometimes, when women were—

  He dropped the phone. Oh, Holy Mother. It couldn’t be. They’d used protection. All three times. “Jessica?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Jessica!” He couldn’t stand it. He had to know. He reached for the doorknob and pushed open the door.

  Jessica was at the sink, rinsing her mouth, her toothbrush still in her hand. She was white, pasty white, and her eyes were huge, staring at him for barging in.

  “Tell me why you didn’t want me to call the doctor.”

  She didn’t speak. But the toothbrush in her hand trembled.

  “It’s true, then. You’re...”

  She swallowed.

  “We’re...”

  She stood up straight. Her hand went to her stomach.

  He stared at that hand, then slowly let his gaze move up to hers. “Baby?”

  She nodded.

  “Our baby?”

  “Yes.”

  Nick grabbed for the door, but he didn’t make it. The room got too dark, his knees got too weak. And then it went black.

  Chapter Five

  Jessica rushed over to Nick’s prone body and got to her knees. She grabbed his shoulders- and shook him. “Nick! Wake up!” He was limp in her arms, his face now matching hers white for white.

  She got up again and went to the sink, filling her rinsing glass with cold water. Her hand shoo
k and she spilled a little, but she managed to turn back to him.

  Just as his eyes fluttered open, she flung the water square in his face, unable to stop the motion by the time it registered that he was coming to.

  The water hit right on target, flying in his eyes, nose and open mouth. He sputtered and coughed, and for a panicky second she thought he might be choking. Then his hand went to his face and he rubbed his eyes. She took in a great breath of air.

  “What happened?” he said.

  “You fainted.”

  He sat up, shaking his head. Little droplets of water flew from his wet hair. “I didn’t.”

  “You did.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t faint.”

  “So how do you think you got to the ground?” she asked, amazed that he could be so obstinate, despite the evidence.

  “I don’t know.”

  He felt the back of his head and looked at her suspiciously. It took her a second to realize he was checking for lumps. She laughed, dumbfounded. “You think I knocked you out?”

  “No,” he said, but she heard the doubt.

  “Nick, you passed out. Cold.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “You don’t remember?”

  He shook his head again, then climbed to his feet. “Remember what?”

  She didn’t want a repeat performance of his swan dive. Taking his hand in hers, she led him back to the living room, maneuvered him to the couch and sat him down. He looked at her as if she might hit him again. That actually might not be such a bad idea.

  “You remember that I was sick, right?”

  He nodded cautiously.

  “That I went to the bathroom in a real hurry.”

  Again, the slow nod.

  “Then you barged in.”

  His head stopped bobbing. His eyes widened. His face grew pale once more, and she leaned forward ready to catch him, but he didn’t pass out. He just gave her this weird look. His lips curved up in a sort of smile. He blinked several times. He cocked his head to the side, and then he said something in Italian that she didn’t understand.