His Miracle Baby Page 5

  During his marriage, he’d never looked twice at another woman, Shani included. Sex with Arianna had been satisfying but not spectacular; nevertheless, he would have never betrayed his wife. Physical relationships with women had been few and far between since Arianna’s death, first because of the grief and guilt, later because he’d let himself get caught up with work to sidestep the urges.

  The length of time since he’d been with a woman had to be why Shani intrigued him so. She was living in such close proximity, and she’d engaged in the exquisitely intimate act of carrying his babies. It made sense that the line between reality and sexual fantasy had become so muddled in his mind.

  He could see the back of the cottage from his vantage point near the fence line of his property. The bedroom lights were on and he could see a faint shadow crossing the windows as she passed. Despite his better judgment, he imagined her readying for bed, undressing, pulling on that shapeless T-shirt he’d seen her wearing that day in her apartment.

  Except that apparently hadn’t been her usual sleepwear. In the few weeks Shani had been living at the cottage, Mrs. Singh had been doing her laundry. He’d seen the piles separated out in the laundry room, had seen the colorful bits of nothing Mrs. Singh had put aside for the gentle cycle. Just picturing Shani in those scraps of lace and satin had let loose a torrent of X-rated images.

  Feeling like a pervert, Logan continued on, circling around the cottage and heading back toward the house. He’d brought home a pile of reading—a policy manual from his information security officer, a spreadsheet of recommendations for Christmas bonuses, a prospectus for a possible acquisition. Deadly dull, dry work. Just the thing to keep his mind on the straight and narrow.

  Yet, later as he slogged through the pages of hi-tech mumbo jumbo, struggling to keep his eyes open and his mind alert, Shani’s face kept dancing in his mind’s eye. Her soft smile, that lock of hair that he’d smoothed on her head, the imagined come-hither look in her light brown eyes made it impossible to focus.

  In the end, he tossed the policy manual across the room in frustration and stomped upstairs to take a long, cold shower.

  Chapter Five

  After their argument the night of his job offer, Shani and Logan went back to seeing each other only in passing. It should have made her happy that he kept himself absent from her life. But she’d enjoyed at least part of their time together that night, had appreciated getting to know a little bit more about him.

  She saw far more of the nurse Logan had hired to administer the injections Shani would continue through her first trimester. Logan was gone by the time Shani left her house in the morning, and at night, it was seven-thirty or eight before he pulled into the driveway. She thought he might turn toward the cottage before walking into the house, but he never even looked her way.

  It made no sense that she should feel lonely. They’d agreed their relationship wouldn’t extend beyond the surrogacy agreement. But with the long road they still had ahead of them with the pregnancy, it only seemed right they should find a way to get along.

  She’d been able to end her commitment to the library and the print shop without a problem. The parting in both cases was so amicable, Shani almost wondered if Logan had intervened after all. She had to remind herself she wasn’t indispensable at either job. There were doubtless several other students ready and willing to take her place.

  After spending her first day at MiniSport, as the small R and D unit was known, filling out forms, reporting for a required physical exam and sitting through an hour of employee orientation, she was looking forward to some real work on her second day. But when she arrived Tuesday, she found a stack of documents on her desk and a note from Clint asking her to read them to familiarize herself with what the unit was working on.

  She did her best, slogging through the dry material, all the while keeping one eye on the clock. She had an eleven-thirty appointment for her first ultrasound and she’d been on pins and needles in anticipation of her first view of the babies-to-be.

  She would have thought Logan would want to be there. She’d sent him an e-mail, apprising him of the time, but he hadn’t replied as of this morning. Dr. Conners would no doubt be printing out hard copies of the ultrasound images. Shani could just take those up to the house for him to see.

  But he ought to be there, to experience firsthand the excitement of seeing his progeny for the first time. Maybe he’d forgotten; she’d call him, remind him of the time. But when she dialed the number she found in the company directory, his administrative assistant said he was out of the office.

  As a last-ditch effort, she sent him an e-mail. Then just before she shut down her computer at eleven, she found Logan’s reply amidst the junk mail and new-employee notifications from human resources. Short and sweet, it said only, Meet you at the clinic for the ultrasound.

  He was there waiting for her when she arrived, pacing in front of the clinic entrance. When she saw him, an inexplicable spark of joy lit inside her. She didn’t understand the emotion, decided it must have something to do with the reminder of the life growing inside her.

  “How have you been feeling?” he asked as he walked inside with her.

  “Tired sometimes, but I feel great.”

  They stepped inside and Shani signed in. She settled in a chair with the two other women waiting with their husbands.

  Logan remained standing. “I almost didn’t come.”

  She looked up at him in surprise. “I thought you wanted to be involved in this pregnancy.”

  “I do.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “But this is when we found out. That second time, after the pregnancy test was positive. The doctor did the ultrasound and we discovered…”

  “Arianna had lost the baby.” Her stomach knotted at the thought.

  “They did another pregnancy test to be sure.” He shook his head. “Arianna took it hard.”

  “I know,” Shani said quietly.

  “I keep forgetting. All those years, I never saw you, but you and my wife were still friends.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “I’m grateful for that. You, at least, knew how to comfort her.”

  “I’m sure you tried.” It was the polite thing to say. According to Arianna, he’d acted as if the miscarriage had been no big deal.

  Yet his edginess, his unwillingness or inability to relax, seemed to tell a different story. She took his hand. “It’ll be fine. Believe me, I still feel very pregnant.”

  His gaze centered on her. “How do you know?”

  “The tiredness, the beginnings of morning sickness. Breakfast made me a bit queasy this morning. Then there’s the most obvious symptom—” She broke off, not sure just how much she wanted to share with Logan.

  “What?” he prodded.

  Her cheeks warmed. She lowered her voice, all too aware of the other men and women in the room. “I’m sore.” She gestured at her breasts. “And they’re bigger.”

  That had been the only thing Devon had liked about her being pregnant, that her miniscule breasts had swollen in those first few weeks. They’d gotten even bigger as she’d gotten close to delivering the baby. But Devon had been long gone by then.

  She couldn’t blame Logan when his gaze dropped to her breasts. She’d all but hung a neon light on them. But as his attention lingered there, his blue eyes darkening, she was mortified to feel her nipples tightening. She told herself it was only because she was embarrassed by Logan’s scrutiny. But the tingle of awareness she felt low in her body couldn’t be attributed to her feeling of awkwardness. Thank God the sweater she’d put on this morning concealed her reaction.

  When Dr. Conners’s nurse called Shani’s name, Logan’s focus snapped away from her. Shani followed the nurse to the exam room. Logan would join her in a few minutes.

  The nurse handed her a blue paper drape. “Everything off from the waist down, please.”

  Although she’d been warned that this first ultrasound used an internal probe, heat rose
in Shani’s cheeks at the thought of being half-naked with Logan in the room. She knew he’d be at the head of the exam table and wouldn’t be able to see anything he shouldn’t. No doubt his gaze would be fixed on the television monitor mounted on the far wall and not on her. But the crazy stew of emotions inside her just heightened her awareness of the intimacy of the procedure.

  Once she’d set aside her skirt, panty hose and panties, Shani levered herself up onto the exam table and carefully adjusted the drape across her legs. She sat back, willing her nerves to settle. A few minutes later, the doctor entered with Logan and set off a jangling all over again.

  He glanced first at her face, then at the blue drape covering her legs, then quickly up at the monitor. Color rose in his cheeks and she guessed he felt just as awkward as she did at the situation. She didn’t want him to feel that way, didn’t want his first view of his babies to be linked with embarrassment.

  She remembered what he’d gone through with Arianna, how difficult that must have been for him. Putting aside her own discomfort, she took his hand. “It’s fine, Logan. I promise you.”

  Dr. Conners inserted the probe inside Shani, adjusted the position. “There you go, Dad. Take a look.”

  At first it was hard to make out anything on the splotchy gray, white and black image. Then the doctor typed on the keyboard and a white arrow appeared, pointing to a rough black oval with a bit of gray-and-white intruding.

  “There’s your baby,” Dr. Conners said.

  “Baby, singular?” Logan asked. “Only one?”

  “Only one,” Dr. Conners said. “But everything looks good so far.”

  Shani’s awkwardness vanished as she stared at the ultrasound image. It was so small, nearly indistinguishable. A rush of emotion filled her as she fixed on that tiny bit of life. The powerful feelings alarmed her. If she felt this strongly about Logan’s baby now, when it was barely a speck on an ultrasound monitor, how would she feel later as the fetus grew inside her? She had to shut those emotions down now.

  Logan stared at the screen, his expression rapt. “How soon before it starts to look more like a baby?”

  “You’ll be able to see a little more at the eight-week ultrasound.” Dr. Conners pulled out the probe. “I’ll be sending home some printed pictures and a video.”

  Still dazed, Logan left so that Shani could dress. She met up with him again in the waiting room.

  She smiled up at him. “I’m so glad you came.”

  “Come to lunch with me,” he said.

  “I thought I’d go back to MiniSport, put in another hour before I go to school.”

  “Please. I just need to…” He looked around the room, as if searching for the right thing to say. “Come to lunch with me.”

  She couldn’t refuse him. “Should I follow you?”

  “We’ll take my car. I’ll bring you back.”

  They drove into Roseville, to a small Indian restaurant. Shani ordered a mild chicken curry and rice. Logan went for a scorching lamb vindaloo.

  “You can relax now,” Shani said as their food arrived.

  “It’s still too early.” He nudged the basket of naan bread toward her. “You went through this before, seeing your baby on an ultrasound.”

  The reminder of her son, even after all these years, hit her like a punch to the stomach. Logan must have seen the reaction in her face because he reached across the table toward her.

  “Damn, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “It isn’t.” He took her hand. “I’m just…hell, I don’t know. Seeing the ultrasound…getting past that hurdle…”

  “I never had an ultrasound. My insurance wouldn’t cover it.” She picked at the curry. “It wouldn’t have been a good idea, anyway.”

  She’d thought at the time that seeing the images would just strengthen the attachment toward the baby growing inside her. But it didn’t matter. The connection had developed, anyway, day by day. The morning she handed her son off to the representative from the adoption agency, it had felt as if her heart had been torn from her chest.

  Logan stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. “I thought it wouldn’t mean much to me, seeing it. But it makes it real.”

  Unwilling to revisit the grief of the past, Shani focused on the path of Logan’s thumb along her skin. In that moment, she wished for more than that slight contact, that he would take her in his arms.

  It wouldn’t have to be Logan, she told herself. Anyone would be just as much a comfort. It was only their shared experience that drew her so intensely to him.

  He drew his hand back and took another bite of his vindaloo. “Have you had any contact with him at all?”

  “His mother sent me pictures for a few years.” Shani forced herself to take a mouthful of chicken and rice. “It was too hard. I asked her to stop.” Now she wished she hadn’t.

  “But you still know where he lives.”

  Shani shook her head. “They moved. I considered asking my mother if she could find out where, but then I thought it might be better…”

  He pushed aside his plate. “I could find him for you.”

  “No! Please…” She struggled to clear her thoughts. “I don’t want to intrude on his life, to complicate things for him.”

  “If you change your mind, you’ll tell me.”

  She tore off a piece of the flat naan. “Maybe someday.” When she felt strong enough. When she could meet him and walk away without a broken heart.

  A sudden thought had her lifting her gaze to Logan’s. “You wouldn’t do it on your own…go searching for him.”

  A flicker in his face told her it had crossed his mind. “Don’t,” she told him.

  “I’ll wait for you to ask,” he said, and she heard the conviction in his tone.

  Shani managed to eat enough that she couldn’t possibly feel guilty about depriving the baby. The drive back to the clinic where her car was parked passed in silence. Logan took a cell call, speaking into his wireless headset as he navigated the streets.

  He pulled in beside her car and shut off the engine. Shani put out a hand to stop him. “You don’t have to get out.”

  But when she climbed out, he did, as well, following her around to the driver’s side of her Mustang. He stood there as she unlocked the door and opened it.

  When she started to climb in, she felt his hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see him gazing down at her, his expression unreadable.

  Then his arms were around her, holding her close. For a moment, she hesitated, his warmth soaking into her, his hands spread across her back. Then she wrapped her arms around him, absorbing his strength. Tears pricked her eyes, her throat tightened, and his comfort washed through her.

  When he backed away finally, his gaze dropped to her wet eyes. Gently, he brushed the tears aside with his fingertips. His hand lingered on her cheek.

  “Thank you,” he said softly. Then he turned on his heel and walked away.

  When Shani returned home that evening, she found one of Mrs. Singh’s notes taped to her door. Mr. Rafferty would like you to join him for dinner tonight at seven.

  Wariness warred with a spurt of joy inside her. Exhausted from the day, Shani wasn’t sure which would be more difficult—another sparring session with Logan, or grappling with the confusing emotions she experienced when she was with him. She would have simply called Mrs. Singh and begged off, but she suspected that as politely worded as the note was, this was more of a command performance than a request. If she didn’t show, Logan might come down here demanding to know why.

  It was just after six, and she dithered over whether to use the hour studying her industrial-organization text for tomorrow’s test. But such a brief time wouldn’t drill into her the concepts she barely understood. She needed a major brain transplant for that, exchanging hers for that of an expert in economics.

  In the end, she collapsed into bed for a nap, taking care to set her alarm first to be sure she didn’t ove
rsleep. She woke before it went off, which gave her enough time to change from jeans and a turtleneck into a full blue denim skirt and a pale periwinkle V-neck sweater. She told herself she wasn’t dressing up for Logan. She just wanted out of the clothes she’d been wearing all day.

  As she walked toward the main house, light glowed from the windows, bright against the near dark. Although the small frame house she grew up in back in Iowa City was nothing like this expansive farmhouse, she felt the ache of homesickness. She hadn’t been back to Iowa since spring break, and only for three days. She wouldn’t be seeing her mother and sister again until Thanksgiving. That holiday seemed months away.

  She’d just reached the porch steps when the front door opened. Logan stepped outside, his usual uniform of slacks, dress shirt and tie replaced by khakis and a polo shirt. The ache of loneliness inside Shani eased as he moved toward her, taking her hand to help her up the last step. The heat of the contact zinged through her, tempting her to lean closer to him.

  Thankfully, he let her go to open the door. “Dinner’s almost ready,” he said as he moved aside to let her enter.

  The tiled foyer led immediately into a spacious but homey great room. Comfortable sofas flanked the fireplace, where a pellet stove warmed the room. She could see the open kitchen beyond, where Mrs. Singh worked on the finishing touches for their meal. Through the door to the dining room, Shani glimpsed the table set for two.

  A chess set, the pieces laid out ready for a game, sat on the coffee table, a cardboard file box on the floor beside it. In the otherwise tidy room, the box seemed out of place.

  When Logan noticed her looking at the box, he slid it under the table out of sight. “Mrs. Singh is ready to serve.”