A Hard Man to Love (13 page)

The warmth of her smile filled her brown eyes and heated his soul. He still couldn’t move. He swallowed, exerting tremendous effort to clear the passageway in his closed throat.

I’m in love with her.

How could he not have seen it before?

Because he knew the danger of love—or the lack thereof. But it was too late. He was all in.

By loving her, he handed her the power to hurt him. The same as she’d done when she ended their relationship, though he hadn’t wanted to admit it at the time. The same as his father had done when he rejected his nine-year-old self. The same as his mother had done by endorsing his biological father’s decision to give up his paternal rights so another man could adopt him.

“Derrick, is something wrong?”

He shook his head and cleared his throat. “No. Ah, what are you eating?”

Her eyes lowered from his in embarrassment. “Raspberry jam and Nutella on crackers . . . with a sprinkling of salt.”

Derrick approached, eyeing her spread on the counter. “Well, at least you left out the bananas this time.”

“We’re out of bananas,” she said in a morose tone. She puckered her lips into a cute little moue of misery.

“That’s ’cause you ate them all.”

“You know I can’t help it. It’s the hormones.” She slipped another cracker into her mouth. Her hair fell into loose waves onto her shoulders. He lifted and fingered a strand before letting it fall back into place.

Perfect. The perfect woman, right under his nose.

“So when you mention hormones, it’s all good, but when I do, I get yelled at.”

Eva arched an eyebrow. “Do I really need to explain to you why?” she asked around a mouthful of food.

“Have a seat.” Derrick gathered up the two jars, the box of crackers, and the salt. He walked to the small table in the kitchen and took a seat beside Eva.

“You look tired,” she remarked.

“Nah, I’m good. I just have a lot on my mind.” Like how he’d managed to fall in love with a woman he’d blackmailed into marrying him. And how did she feel about him now that they’d been married for a while? “How are you feeling today?”

“Okay, although I felt a little pain around lunchtime.”

Derrick frowned. “How long did it last?”

“Don’t worry,” she said, spreading Nutella on a cracker. “It didn’t last long. Just a few minutes. If it happens again, I promise I’ll call the doctor.”

“You should have called the doctor today.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” She sighed. “Derrick, I can’t make a big deal out of every little thing. I can tell they’re getting tired of me already because I keep bugging them, and I still have almost two months to go. The last time we visited the doctor, he said the pregnancy is progressing normally. It was probably gas or something.” She applied the raspberry jam over the hazelnut spread.

“I’d rather know for sure.” He lifted both of her sock-covered feet onto his thighs. Outside of her belly, there wasn’t much else to indicate Eva was pregnant. She hadn’t gained much weight, but her feet had grown larger, and her ankles started swelling. He removed one sock and started to massage her feet. This is what being in love did to you. It made you sappy and considerate. “And for the record, that’s what they get paid for. If it happens again, promise me you’ll talk to the doctor.”

She nodded. “I promise.”

Using circular motions, Derrick dragged his fingers from the toe to the ankle of one foot.

“Mmm,” Eva murmured. “That feels so good.”

He continued the same movements, using his thumbs on the sole of her foot, gradually increasing the pressure.

She moaned. “Oh, that feels so good.”

Fairly certain there was no need for that tone of voice, Derrick lifted his gaze to Eva’s. The pupils of her eyes had darkened with desire to an even richer brown. “Eva,” he warned, fingers paused on her ankle.

“We haven’t made love in over a week. That’s a long time.”

Ten days to be exact. “I know, but I’m trying to ease up on you.”

“I don’t want you to ease up on me,” she whispered.

His body tightened, and he suppressed a groan. The words roused his libido, as if it needed rousing. Looking at her pregnant body served as an adequate aphrodisiac on a day-to-day basis, and only through sheer willpower did he manage not to spread her legs at every opportunity.

“Remember on the last visit, the doctor said it’s okay as long as I’m still comfortable.”

“I know, but I can tell you don’t have the stamina you used to.”

With a coy smile, she said, “So we’ll just do it one time.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmured halfheartedly, feeling a rise in his pants already.

She lowered her feet and rose from the chair. “I’m okay. Really.”

The red, long-sleeved maternity dress drew attention to her radiant dark skin, and the round neckline emphasized the size of her breasts, enlarged by the effects of her pregnancy. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on them.

As their eyes met and held, he let his fingers travel lightly up her thighs. With the back of his hand, he stroked the damp material between her legs. A little tremor ran through her, and her eyes glazed over with passion. Slowly, he lowered her panties past her hips and let them fall to the floor.

“Come here,” he said, patting his thighs.

With a sultry smile, she lowered onto his legs. Their lips connected instantly, moving gently over one another before becoming more frantic as desire flared between them. He wound his fingers in her hair and tipped her head back so he could pass heated kisses down the length of her neck.

He nibbled at the soft skin there and then moved to her ear, where he caught the fleshy lobe in his mouth and sucked. The uneven sound of her breath aroused him further, and he pressed his face to her soft throat.

Peppermint and oatmeal.

He cupped her full breasts in his hands, and she gasped with pleasure. “Yes,” she whispered as he kneaded the soft mounds, rubbing the flats of his thumbs across the nipples until they came to rigid points.

He wanted to tell her how he felt. The need to do so built to such a pitch, he undid the buttons on her bodice and plucked one of her breasts from inside the dress, filling his mouth to curtail the urge.

He had never said the words “I love you” to anyone. Not once in his entire thirty-three years. But this was his woman, his wife, and even if he couldn’t say the words right now, he could show her with his body how much he loved her.

He hurriedly undid the belt on his trousers and then unzipped his pants. Her fingers gripped his shoulders in an effort to remain steady. Under the dress, his hands helped guide her onto his erection.

“I love how wet you get for me,” he said tightly.

“Only you. Only you,” she breathed against his mouth.

His chest puffed with pride, and he pumped his hips, his hands cupping her backside. Her head fell back as she rocked against him, riding with abandon, clinging to him like a lifeline.

He lowered his head to the bare breast and plucked the swollen nipple back into his mouth, curling his tongue around it. Her hips moved with more frantic motions. It was hard as hell to hold back when she started getting so excited.

Their moans came in a synchronized cadence, bouncing off the kitchen walls in their mutual climb to satisfaction.

“I’m coming . . . I’m coming, Derrick.”

Sweeter words had never been spoken. She came apart, clutching on to his shoulders with a mighty grip. Her brown eyes blazed down at him with passion. He bucked within her, the contractions of her body dragging him toward repletion. One arm fisted around her waist, while his other hand clamped down on the edge of the table to resist clutching her to him with undue force.

Afterward, when their breathing was back to normal and her breast tucked inside the bodice of the dress, Eva pressed a kiss to his check.

“I think you needed that as much as I did,” she whispered. He could feel her smile.

“I guess so.” He turned his head and kissed her mouth. She tasted like raspberry and sweet hazelnut.

“Ooh.” Eva grabbed her stomach. “I think we woke her.”

Derrick placed his hand beside Eva’s and felt his baby’s movements. “She’s pissed at you. She must be doing karate chops in there. That’s those Hawthorne genes.”

“I think she is pissed. And this is Jacob all the way.” She fell silent, and they sat for a while, their palms spread across her belly to track the movements of their unborn child. “She’ll soon be here,” Eva whispered. “I can’t wait.”

When she stopped moving around, they rose from the chair and fixed their clothes.

Derrick swooped her up in his arms and headed for the door.

“Oh, wait, my snack.”

After a long sigh, Derrick walked back over to the table and bent his knees so she could gather up the items.

Walking through the house, he warned, “No crumbs in the bed.”

“It happened one time.”

“Twice. If you make a mess in our bed, I swear . . .”

They continued their argument all the way into the bedroom.

****

With a start, Eva awoke in the middle of the night. Sharp pains jabbed at her back and stomach, forcing her to clutch her round belly. They felt like the vicious swipes of a knife, ripping through her, so acute she couldn’t breathe or make a sound for several seconds.

When she caught her breath, she looked over her shoulder at Derrick’s sleeping form. “Derrick, wake up.”

She whimpered at another slice of the hot, scraping claw inside of her. She must be going into labor. She curled into the fetal position, her eyes unfocused from the searing pain.

“Derrick, wake up,” she panted, reaching back to grab his hand and squeeze with all her might.

He roused from sleep, his voice groggy when he said, “Eva? What is it?”

“I don’t know. I think . . . I’m going into labor.”

She cried out in agony as her uterus felt like it twisted inside out.

Derrick swore and bolted upright. He reached across her and grabbed the remote from the table beside the bed to turn on the lights.

“I don’t know. This doesn’t feel right,” Eva said, her voice shaking in panic. Between her legs was wet, but if her water broke, was it supposed to feel so thick? “Something’s wrong.”

With trembling fingers, she pushed the comforter off of her. That’s when she saw it.

Blood.

She screamed in horror. “No! No!” Her head fell back. A wave of nausea assaulted her from the pain and the sight of the garish red color staining her negligee. Her arms folded over her stomach in a protective gesture. “No. No.”

Derrick sped into action, jumping off the bed and gathering her in arms. “Shh. I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

His voice remained calm, steady—the complete opposite to her panic-stricken cries seconds before. But she could feel his rapid heartbeat against her cheek as he lifted her in his arms and raced from the room.

“Saunders!” he bellowed down the hall.

The pain didn’t subside. It was excruciating and relentless. Eva’s arms tightened around Derrick’s neck. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She was losing her baby.

“Saunders!” Derrick called again. “Help me!”

She sobbed because of the pain. Sobbed because of her fears. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This was her miracle baby.

****

She must have passed out.

When she regained consciousness, she found herself bundled in a blanket in the back of one of the cars, cradled in Derrick’s arms. Outside the tinted windows, the lights of the city sped past as they raced up the highway.

Derrick would take care of everything.

That was her last thought before she closed her eyes and passed out again.

Chapter Fourteen

Derrick rose from the chair beside Eva’s bed when the doctor motioned him outside the VIP delivery suite at the hospital. She rested now, hooked up to beeping machines with an IV drip attached to one arm. The drugs had sedated her enough so she could get some relief from the pain.

In the hall, the doctor’s sympathetic gaze behind horn-rimmed spectacles made his stomach twist uneasily.

“Derrick!” A female voice came down the hall. Matthew and Cassidy rushed toward him with concern etched in their faces. “How is she? How’s the baby?”

“I don’t know. The doctor’s about to give me an update now.” He didn’t feel like himself. Maybe that’s why his voice sounded like he’d chewed and swallowed a plateful of rocks. He’d never felt so helpless in his life.

“Mr. Hoffman,” the doctor began in a soothing tone, “after examining your wife, we’ve determined there’s been a placental abruption.”

“A what?”

“A placental abruption. What that means is that the placenta has separated from the wall of the uterus. It doesn’t happen very often, and usually when it does occur, the effects are not serious and can be contained. Unfortunately, that’s not the case with your wife. Her condition is very problematic. She’s lost a lot of blood and continues to bleed, and the baby is not getting the necessary oxygen and nutrients it needs.”

“Violet,” Derrick said, feeling dazed.

“Excuse me?”

“Violet,” he repeated. “Her name is Violet. We named her after Eva’s mother.”

“Violet.” The doctor directed his gaze at the three of them. “Violet is experiencing what we call fetal distress. It’s too dangerous to induce labor. If we want to save her, we’ll have to take her immediately.”

A soft sound of dismay came from Cassidy. She brought her hand to her mouth, and her fear-filled eyes looked up at Derrick.

All of his senses seemed heightened and concentrated to form a stiffening tension from his neck up into his head. The lights were too bright, the air too thin, and the hospital sounds around him were too loud.

“Did we do something wrong?” he asked, thinking back to him and Eva in the kitchen.

“There are risk factors, none of which pertain to your wife. It’s one of those things that can happen, and it can’t be prevented. All we can do is limit the damage at this point.”

 “Is that safe to take Violet now? She’s got almost two months left. Will she be all right?”