Baby's First Christmas Read online

  Sullivan looked up, startled by the sound of his door banging against the wall. He thought it was an earthquake, ushered in by the rain. He took one look at Marlene’s face and decided that it might as well have been.

  She looked exactly like what he’d envisioned one of the Furies looked like—if the Furies had been beautiful and pregnant enough to burst.

  He wondered how she’d gotten past his secretary and then remembered that the woman had left early for the day. Somewhere around four or five. Working, he’d lost track of time. One of Travis Corporation’s developments had been badly affected by the storm. Manning the telephone, he’d attempted to do what he could in the way of damage control.

  Throughout it all, Marlene had lingered on his mind like vapor hovering above a boiling kettle.

  The vapor looked as if it were ten degrees past the boiling point. Trying to focus, Sullivan attempted to think of a reason for her sudden, obviously angry presence in his office.

  He pushed back his chair and rose. “Did I forget something?”

  Damn, she wished those funny pains would stop. She felt like an egg being cracked open on the side of a pan. “Obviously.” Marlene took the envelope out of her purse and held it out to him.

  He looked at it, but made no move to take it from her. “What’s that?” And then, belatedly, he remembered the letter he had asked his lawyer to draft. But he had instructed the man to show it to him first, not mail it. Damn.

  She dropped the envelope on his desk. Marlene braced her legs against the carved side for support. “The letter your lawyer sent me. He forgot to include the thirty pieces of silver.”

  A hell of a lot of damage control was in order here and fast. He walked around the desk until he was beside her. “You weren’t supposed to get this now.”

  She raised her chin, though she didn’t feel very feisty at the moment. She felt as if she were liquefying right where she stood. And being near him had nothing to do with it.

  “When?” she demanded. “Just when was I supposed to get this? When is a good time to tell me that you intend to rip this child out of my arms no matter what?”

  “Marlene,” he began, then stopped. Given the situation, he would have expected her to be turning red. But she was white, a very deathly shade of white. “You’re turning pale.”

  Her mouth was dry as dust, yet she felt damp all over. Just the rain, she told herself. But she felt woozy and her pulse was accelerating.

  “It’s very hot in here.”

  “No, as a matter of fact, it isn’t. It’s rather cold.” The thermostat was set low, the way he liked it. “And if you were hot, you’d be flushed, not pale.”

  Sullivan placed the back of his hand against her forehead, checking for a fever. It slid against the sheen of perspiration.

  Marlene jerked her head back. It made her dizzier. “I didn’t come here for a medical opinion, Travis. I came for your heart—on a platter.”

  “Well, you’re getting my opinion, such as it is.” He reached for her hand. Marlene pulled it away. “You’re perspiring and your hand is clammy. I’m going to take you home.”

  She didn’t want him to take her anywhere. Marlene took a step back. “I can—oh!”

  Sullivan grabbed her arm as her knees suddenly buckled beneath her, succumbing to the intensity of the pain that seized her.

  “What is it?” he demanded.

  It took her a moment to find her voice. “I don’t know.” She was bewildered. And scared. “I feel as if there’s some sort of revolution going on inside. I—” Her eyes flew open. “Oh, my God.”

  He braced her against his body and moved her to a chair into which he gently lowered her. It wasn’t difficult. Her legs had virtually collapsed.

  And then he saw what had caused her to gasp. There was a damp pool on the carpet where she had been standing.

  Unease slid over him like a heavy blanket, smothering him. “I think your water broke.”

  Oh, God, not here, not now. “There’s that razor sharp mind again.” She was almost panting.

  He became stern. “Shelve the sarcasm for a minute. You need to go to the hospital.”

  She shut her eyes as another wave of pain assaulted her, then danced away. “Good thinking. You must have been first in your class at Harvard.”

  “How did you know I went to Harvard? Never mind. Save your strength.” Slowly, he lifted her to her feet. “I’m taking you to the hospital.” Behind him, the wind was attempting to rattle the windows.

  She wound her hand around his. The retort on her lips melted in the face of her need. Later they would hash things out. Right now, it was all she could do to keep from collapsing.

  “I would appreciate that,” she whispered.

  Chapter Seven

  Sullivan wrapped his fingers around hers tightly as Marlene struggled up to her feet, but there was no need for him to make the extra effort. Marlene’s hand was hermetically sealed to his.

  She was stronger than she looked.

  A fresh pain shot through her body. Marlene swallowed a surprised gasp and squeezed his hand even harder.

  She was entirely too unsteady on her feet. He thought of calling for an ambulance. “Can you walk?”

  Marlene hated admitting how weak she felt, even at a time like this. Carrying on no matter what had been inbred in her. It was her father’s belief that the weak were walked on. They were taken advantage of, then ignored and tossed away.

  But even so, there was no denying the truth. She was definitely not prepared for this kind of pain. Marlene had expected that labor was going to be bad, but not like this. Anticipation and experience were definitely not in the same league. They weren’t even close.

  “I don’t know.” The words came out in a pain-filled whisper. She straightened up, but her knees began to buckle almost instantly. Annoyed, she pressed her lips together. “I think—”

  Sullivan didn’t wait to hear what she thought. He had eyes. “You’re obviously in no condition to walk anywhere, even to the elevator.” He knew everyone was gone by now. There was no one to call for assistance. Bracing himself to ignore a barrage of protests, Sullivan lifted her into his arms.

  The protest that instantly materialized melted on her lips a moment later. She might be stubborn, but she wasn’t stupid. There was no way she could walk, not right now. Marlene laced her arm around the back of Sullivan’s neck. Though she hated the situation, she was grateful to him. He didn’t have to do this.

  “I weigh a ton.” Her objection had very little intensity behind it.

  She didn’t weigh nearly as much as she seemed to think she did. “Not quite, and I’ve been working out,” he said flippantly, “so don’t worry about it.”

  The wave of pain receded, momentarily allowing her to think clearly. Marlene pushed back the hair that perspiration had plastered to her forehead. She didn’t want to be carried around like some helpless sack of flour.

  “But—”

  He didn’t want to hear it. The last thing he needed was to have her deliver the child on the floor right there. He prided himself on being ready for anything, but that was one thing he definitely wasn’t prepared for.

  “You’re in pain, remember? Moan, don’t whine.”

  Marlene drew in her breath sharply. “I never whine,” she ground out between her teeth.

  “Glad to hear that.” He made his way into the hall. Usually the hub of bustling activity, the long corridor with its florescent lighting looked forlornly deserted.

  Marlene let out the breath she was holding. The pain had ebbed away further. Maybe she was just panicking for no reason. Maybe she still had time.

  Clinging to that hope, her breathing began to level off. Embarrassment nudged aside the remnants of panic. Marlene felt foolish. Not to mention self-conscious, even though no one else was around. No matter what Sullivan said, she knew she had to be heavy.

  “I think I can walk now.” She slipped her hand from around his neck.

  Sullivan ignore
d her as he made his way to the elevator. He wasn’t about to set her down and watch her sink to the floor.

  “And just when I thought we were beginning to share a moment.” He murmured the comment without cracking a smile. “Okay, we’ll test your resilience.” He nodded toward the wall. “Press the down button.”

  She reached out and pushed the circular button. The light that appeared behind the white casing glimmered feebly. Not unlike her, she thought.

  “Travis, this is carrying chivalry a little too far.”

  Maybe, but he had started it, and he always finished what he started.

  “Indulge me.” She felt as if she were slipping. He shifted her weight slightly. “Besides, you’re the one who crumpled at my feet. Or was that just my fatal charm bringing you to your knees?”

  “Don’t push it,” she murmured.

  She could feel a distant edginess sending out long feelers for her. Her breathing began to grow labored again. The pain was returning. Fresh perspiration dotted her brow as a foreshadowing of things to come.

  The elevator finally arrived, and he carried her inside. Sullivan could feel her impatience mounting. “All right, we’ll test your sea legs in here.”

  The door closed behind them as Sullivan gently set her down. The sudden change in orientation made her feel dizzy. Panic spilled through her, and she clutched at his arm. Perspiration poured down her brow.

  She looked as pale as the snow-capped mountain peaks in the dead of winter. Sullivan was growing seriously concerned. “Maybe I’d better pick you up again.”

  “No, I’m fine.” The words were uttered breathlessly. Swallowing, attempting to coat a throat that was suddenly parched, she gritted her teeth together. Damn, but this really hurt. She pressed her hand to her abdomen, as if that could hold off the encroaching pain. “But I really hope that there’s no traffic between here and the hospital.”

  He braced himself against her, holding her steady, and she made no attempt to push him away. He doubted that she even realized what he was doing.

  “I’ll get us there,” he promised. Even if he had to drive on the sidewalks.

  She drew in a breath, hoping it would somehow subdue the erratic flutter of her heart. It didn’t. Her head was pounding like a timpani in a classical orchestra.

  “Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to make promises you might not be able to keep?” She was beginning to feel oddly light-headed, and struggled to focus.

  “If worse comes to worst, I can call 911 from my ca—” He didn’t get a chance to finish as she gripped his hand again. Hard.

  Marlene sucked in her breath as another wave swept over her, subjugating her in its power. The next moment, the lights flickered spasmodically overhead, as if undecided whether or not to remain on. They settled for on as the elevator creaked and groaned, then jerked to a sudden stop.

  Was she imagining it? No, the elevator had stopped. Panic surged through her. This couldn’t be happening. “Travis?”

  He wound his other hand over hers and the hand she held captive. “Just a little delay,” he assured her. His calm voice belied what he was feeling. The storm had been battering at them all day. What if it had affected the power, knocking it out?

  Damn, not now, he thought. Please, not now.

  Holding her to him with one hand, Sullivan pressed each button on the wall in turn with the other. But like a car sealed off in rush hour gridlock, the elevator refused to budge in either direction.

  Marlene’s eyes were wide with pain and what looked like mounting panic.

  “We’re stuck?” It was a question that ended in a cry of anguish.

  “Only temporarily. Stay calm.” Forcefully easing his hand away, he stripped off his suit jacket and laid it on the floor. “Why don’t you sit down?”

  She had to get hold of herself, she thought desperately, trying to rein in her fear. She wasn’t going to make matters any better by getting hysterical. They were in a malfunctioning elevator in a building in the middle of Newport Beach, not lost somewhere in the Himalayas. It would be all right.

  All right, hell. She was about to give birth stuck in an elevator with a sarcastic, would-be baby snatcher. How much worse could things be?

  Marlene bit down on her lower lip. Get a grip. Stabilizing her fear, she shook her head in reply to his suggestion. “Because if I sit down, I may never get up again.”

  “Don’t worry.” He ran his hand along her arm. “You’ll get up. I’ll be right here to help you.”

  She wanted to say something sarcastic about relying on his help, but didn’t have the strength. She didn’t like having to depend on him, even for something so simple as helping her regain her feet.

  But she had no choice. She had to rely on him. “All right.”

  Sullivan took her hand and gently helped her lower herself to the floor.

  “We’ll be out of here in a few minutes,” he promised, hoping to God that he was right. Didn’t these things have backup generators or something?

  He pressed the emergency button and an alarm began to whine. The noise fueled the panic that was mounting within her, even as she tried to shut it off. It was like a car alarm that defied deactivation.

  Here it comes again. Marlene dug her nails into the palms of her hand. She looked up at Sullivan. He seemed so much taller from this vantage point. Her mind was winking in and out and she struggled to focus it, just as her coach had instructed.

  “How long does it usually take for someone to come?” She hoped she didn’t sound as frightened as she felt.

  It’s too long already. “Not long.”

  She wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t fooling her. “But that’s in the daytime, isn’t it?” And it was way into the evening now.

  There would be a security guard on duty at the desk. Unless he was off making rounds or somewhere grabbing a quick nap. Sullivan didn’t want to think about that. “This is hooked up to a main office where they maintain surveillance.”

  So where were they? She swallowed again. There was a lump growing in her throat to match the size of the one in her belly. His answer was diluted as a roar of pain engulfed her. She couldn’t catch her breath.

  “Oh God, Travis, I feel like I’m being broken in half.”

  He didn’t know very much about childbirth, but that couldn’t be a good sign. A terrible premonition overtook him.

  “Just when are you due?”

  No, she refused to believe that she was going into labor. She didn’t know what was happening to her body, but it couldn’t be settling into the birth mode. She just wouldn’t allow it. She didn’t care if her water had broken. She wasn’t ready. Dear God, she wasn’t ready. What did she know about having a baby? There were so many books she still had to read before she felt qualified to be responsible for a child.

  Marlene bit her lip. “Not for another three weeks. It’s supposed to be a Christmas baby.”

  Women and babies never did what they were supposed to. And the latter was as unpredictable as the weather. “Christmas may be coming early this year.”

  She shook her head, her damp hair clinging to her neck and forehead. “I can’t be giving birth here. In a stuck elevator. With you,” she added after a beat.

  He could empathize with her. In her position, he wouldn’t have wanted to give birth here, either. “Don’t worry.” He closed his hand over hers. “These things are supposed to take hours.”

  That wasn’t comforting, not when she felt like a wishbone two people were wrestling over.

  “I’m supposed to feel like this for hours?” Her voice hitched as another pain speared through her. It felt as sharp and hot as if a knife were cutting her open.

  Damn, why wasn’t anyone answering that alarm? He was certain that it was loud enough to be heard from the street.

  “You’ll feel better once your doctor gives you something.” If they ever got out of here, he thought dismally.

  She looked around the dimmed silver container that held them prisoner. It felt smaller
somehow, as if they had slipped into a metal canister. “How is she supposed to get into a stuck elevator?”

  “I don’t know.” Exasperated, Sullivan hit all ten buttons on the wall with the flat of his hand. Nothing happened. The elevator didn’t budge.

  Exhaling a short, exasperated breath, he leaned on the emergency button. The piercing ringing only continued, underlining his frustration.

  Behind him, Sullivan heard Marlene stifling a moan. He felt chagrined. Hitting the elevator wasn’t going to accomplish anything. He squatted down beside her again, taking her hand.

  Comforting women in labor wasn’t in his repertoire. He tried his best, though. “It’s going to be all right.”

  No, it wasn’t. She could feel it. “Easy for you to say. You’re not having a baby.”

  He laid a hand over the swell of her abdomen, willing the child within to wait. “And neither are you. Not yet.”

  Her eyes narrowed as fresh pain wrenched her. She didn’t know how much more of this she could take. “Are you a betting man?”

  “Not usually.” Gently, he brushed back the damp hair from her forehead. She looked as if she’d been in a sauna. He wondered if he should be loosening her clothing. “Maybe you’d be more comfortable lying down.”

  He debated stripping off his shirt and creating a makeshift pallet for her. It wasn’t much, but it was the best he could do under the circumstances.

  “I’d be more comfortable behind my desk, working,” she panted. Another contraction was starting. Tears gathered in her eyes. “Oh God, this was a stupid idea.”

  Because he felt she needed someone to agree with her, he did. “Yes, it was.”

  She tried to focus on his face. In the limited light, it was becoming hazy. “You don’t know what I’m referring to.”

  She had him there. “I haven’t the foggiest,” he admitted.

  He wasn’t making any sense. Men never made any sense. “Then why are you agreeing with me?” It wasn’t easy, attempting to get the words out without slurring or crying.

  He stroked her arm, trying to soothe her. “I thought it would make you feel better. This is hardly the time to get into a debate over anything.”