LITMIR.BIZ

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      Suppose she took some time off and tried to get this done. What would it take? At least six months to find someone suitable and congenial whom she might want to marry. Another six months to really get to know him—and convince him that he wanted to marry, as well. Another six months to set up the wedding. Then a few months before getting pregnant…

      She gasped in horror as she turned into the airport parking lot. It would take almost three years, from the moment she began her project, to the point where she could possibly have a baby in her arms. She was going to be a hundred years old before she got there!

      It all seemed so hopeless. And as she stood waiting for the shuttle to take her to the international terminal, it did occur to her that there might be an indication of the root of her problem in the fact that she even thought about things like this in a business-like manner—projecting time frames and plotting out an attack the way she would plot out a business move. She’d been too long in the business world, hadn’t she?

      She saw Carter waiting for her by the ticket counter and her heart leaped up as it always did when she saw him. She loved the way he stood, so casually sure of himself, so sure the world was his oyster. If only he were the marrying kind. If only he would somehow magically, suddenly, fall in love with her. That would take care of everything.

      She sighed, then started forward, walking quickly to join him.

      “Darn you, Carter,” she was saying under her breath. “Why don’t you love me?”

      Chapter Two

      One week later

      Carter shifted his weight restlessly as he stood waiting for Amy outside the ICU unit of the Monte Vista Hospital. He hated the look of the place—the anonymous white walls, the stainless-steel appliances. He hated the mysterious sounds, the jarring smells. Even the pretty redhead giving him the eye from behind the nurses’ station didn’t make things any better. Every instinct he owned was screaming at him to run for it. As far as he was concerned, only bad things happened in hospitals. He’d had these feelings ever since, as a boy, he’d watched his mother die in one.

      Ordinarily, he shunned them like the plague. But this visit had been unavoidable. The moment he’d heard the announcement paging Amy as they stepped into the terminal at the airport, disembarking the flight from Paris, a knot had pulled up hard in his stomach and it hadn’t yet let go.

      They had raced to a phone and the message had been bad. Just hours before, Amy’s sister and her husband had been in a terrible car accident. They’d been hit by a drunk driver. Both were in critical condition. Carter would never forget the look on Amy’s face as she absorbed the news.

      They had raced to the hospital and found that both injured parties were in surgery. Amy had turned to him, her face stricken and questioning—as though he could stop all this from happening somehow—and he’d wanted to do something big and grand to make it all go away for her, to protect her. But there was nothing he could do but stay with her, and that’s what he did.

      Not that she seemed to notice most of the time. For the most part, she had sat huddled in a chair in the lobby, staring at the far wall. She’d looked up when he’d brought her a cup of water, looked up and smiled absently at him and thanked him. And then went back to staring at the wall. He watched her, feeling helpless and frustrated.

      He could see her now through the glass partitioning off the ICU unit, bending over her sister as she lay in the bed, leaning close to kiss her gently, then turning toward the exit. Carter straightened. Maybe he could finally get her out of here.

      She came out through the swinging doors and he winced as his gaze swept over her. Her eyes were huge and clouded with anguish. The dark smudges beneath them, the tension in her face, all told him things didn’t look particularly rosy right now.

      “What do they say?” he asked, falling in beside her as she walked the corridor toward the elevator. “What’s the prognosis?”

      She glanced at him as though surprised to find him there. “Oh. Carter.” She stopped and looked up at him. “Carter, what are you still doing here?”

      “I wanted to…” He hesitated and shrugged, his eyes hooded. “To take care of you.”

      “To take care of me.” A bittersweet smile played at her lips. “Oh, Carter, you should know me well enough by now. I can take care of myself.”

      “Hmm.” His mouth twisted, but he wasn’t going to remind her of the basket case she’d been just a few hours before.

      “Well, at least they are sure Meg and Tim will pull through. Their conditions have both stabilized. But they will have to be hospitalized for…” She swallowed hard and forced herself to continue. “For weeks, maybe months. Tim’s back was broken. And Meg—” Her face crumpled suddenly. “Both legs broken…” she managed to whisper, shaking her head, her fist to her mouth.

      Carter stared at her, feeling helpless and angry with himself. He wanted to take her in his arms. He wanted to comfort her, to tell her everything was going to be all right. It shouldn’t be this hard. All he had to do was reach out…

      He raised a hand awkwardly, ready to pat her shoulder. But she moved away without noticing and he let his hand drop. Something cold and painful filled his chest.

      “No,” she was telling herself fiercely, closing her eyes and fighting back the tears. “I will not cry. I can’t cry.” Straightening her shoulders, she frowned at him. “I’m the one who has to take care of things. I will not cry,” she promised.

      Carter shrugged, shoving his hands deep into his pockets and trying to look casual. “Go ahead and cry,” he said gruffly. “I’d say it’s a crying situation.”

      “But I don’t have time for that,” she was saying briskly, wiping her eyes and heading for the elevator. “I’ve got to go to the children.”

      He blinked, trailing behind her. “The children?”

      She nodded, jabbing at the down button. “Meg’s children. Deedee and Scamp and Jillian, the baby.”

      “Oh.”

      He relaxed. Meg’s children. Of course. Arrangements would have to be made. He could help her with that. He knew people who would know of a good child-care agency. A few phone calls should do the trick. His spirits brightened and he looked forward to doing this for her. It would make him feel a little more useful.

      The elevator arrived and they boarded side by side.

      “Those poor babies,” Amy was saying. “They must be so scared. Thank God they weren’t in the car when the accident occurred.”

      He looked at her, barely hearing her words. He’d always liked the way she looked and for some reason, she was especially fetching right now with her lipstick rubbed off and her eyes so huge. Another impulse to offer her something more in the way of physical comfort rose in him, but he fought it back. They’d made it through two years and he’d managed to keep from letting their relationship get personal. This was no time to let his defenses weaken.

      Pendleton was the best associate he’d ever worked with, more a partner than an employee. Together they made magic in the business world. If he allowed his natural inclinations to lead him to a romance with her, all that would be ruined. Once emotional elements were allowed to enter into it, the balance would be destroyed and disaster would be lurking just around the corner.

      No touching.

      That was his golden rule. He’d had enough experience to know that romance never lasted and, when it was over, what had once been sweet quickly turned to bitter ashes.

      They’d gone through a rough patch for a while. She’d definitely been attracted to him and she’d let him know it. He’d thought at first there would be no real problem, as she wasn’t really his type. But then he’d realized she wasn’t really any type at all. She was just darn good at business, and darn appealing to his male spirit. He’d needed the strength

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