Close to Heart (15 page)

“But every circumstance seems to contradict my words.”

Justin glanced back at her, surprised by the certainty in her voice, belying the sorrow he could see in her expression. “Yeah, I guess.” He sat down on the edge of the coffee table, facing her, his hand reaching forward for her thigh. “I care about you, Lyssa. I don’t know what it is about you, but as much as I try to stop, I can’t help being drawn to you. It’s like we have this connection, from the moment you got out of that damn car.”

She remained silent. He wanted her to say something, to reassure him that her past no longer mattered, that the woman he saw was the real Lyssa. He wanted to hear her tell him how she felt, that she wanted to stay and forget her life in LA altogether. The longer she didn’t speak, the more worried he became.

“Lyssa, there’s nothing more I want than for you to stay,” he confessed, “but I need to know it’s because you want to be here, with me, in my world. I have to know it’s not a ploy to gain sympathy for your divorce. I need to hear that once the reporters forget about this story, you’re still going to want to stay. I need to know that I’m not just the supporting cast in your return to your career.”

The doubts had seemed so valid when Franklin laid out the plans for the press conference, so legitimate while watching Lyssa work the media like puppets in her hands, but as he voiced them now and saw the wounded agony in her eyes, he didn’t believe it. He wanted to take the words back, as much as he wanted to hear her tell him how ridiculous his fears were. Instead, he saw anger flare in her eyes, the fire shining through the emerald.

“You think I’m using you?” She laughed bitterly and threw her hands into the air. “Well, this is a first. Usually I’m the one being used.”

“Can you blame me?”

“Yes, I can,” she said, pushing his hand from her leg and brushing past him, oblivious to her nearly nude state. “I have never given you any reason to believe I’m not being honest with you.”

Justin tipped his head to the side. “No? What about keeping your identity secret? What about the fact that your lawyer sat at my table and told you to play up a relationship with me in order to win the media to your side and the fact that you didn’t even bat an eye?”

She opened her mouth to protest, then closed it. He saw her shoulders fall, understanding weighing heavily on her as her anger was snuffed out. “Justin, I never meant to make you feel . . . ”

He rose from the edge of the table, trying to force his brain to take charge of his emotions. “Lyssa, can’t you understand why it looks this way? Why would someone like you want to stay? I have nothing to offer you.”

The words were painful to utter. Justin had prided himself on the fact that he was a self-made man. He was successful in his own right, had built his own life and was proud of who he had become. But when he was faced with what he really had to offer Alyssa, a woman accustomed to the finest in every area of life, he was pathetically lacking. It had never been a concern before. He’d also never found a woman he wanted to beg to stay with him forever. And he hated the feeling of desperation curling in his chest, making it hard to breathe.

“Are you kidding?” Her voice was breathless. As she walked closer to him, he fought the urge to retreat, to pretend this conversation had never happened. To pretend that he hadn’t just admitted his cowardice. Her hands slid up his bare chest to curl around the back of his neck. “Nothing I’ve left behind matters. You have given me everything. Would I be in here, hiding in dark rooms behind closed shutters so that no camera accidentally gets a picture of us, if I were using you for attention?”

He looked around the room, realizing for the first time that she’d drawn all the shades, casting the entire house into shadows, effectively making sure that the reporters outside couldn’t see them unless they left the house.

“Franklin isn’t wrong. I needed to tell my side of the story, but I refuse to allow what I feel for you to be exploited in this media circus.”

“What
do
you feel, Lyssa?” His fingers brushed over the side of her jaw, and he saw the blush rise over her cheeks.

“I thought I loved Elijah, thought what we had was going to last forever.” She bit her lower lip, her eyes boring into his. “What I feel with you is nothing like that.”

Justin felt his heart tumble into despair.

“It’s so much more. It’s . . . deeper than that, fuller.” She tore her gaze from his. “And I’m not telling you this expecting you to—”

Justin didn’t give her time to finish her thought as relief washed over him. He pulled her into his arms, crushing her against him, and found her mouth, burying his hand into her hair. He wanted her to know he understood, felt the same. What he felt for her, he’d never known before.

You love her.

The realization shook him, the words almost tumbling from his lips, making him feel too vulnerable. He let his mouth find the sweet curve of her neck, letting his tongue dance over her skin, and felt her nails dig into his shoulders as she clung to him. He might not be ready to confess to Lyssa that he loved her, but he could show her, with his hands, his lips, his body.

A
LYSSA LET
J
USTIN
’
S
hard body cradle the softness of her curves, molding herself against him. They fit like two parts of a whole brought back together. She couldn’t still her hands. She had to touch every part of him, feel the heat of his flesh burning her with his fierce intensity. He held her to him, until she was unable to tell where one ended and the other began. Justin’s fingers were just as urgent as hers as they stripped off their remaining clothing, desperate to give in to the emotions she was afraid to admit.

This feeling wasn’t about gratitude. She wanted Justin with every breath. From the moment she’d arrived at his clinic, he’d shown her how a man could be kind and passionate, demanding and giving, protective and vulnerable. He was every contradiction wrapped into a form that made him perfectly, beautifully human. And the thought of losing the opportunity to tell him how she felt, as confusing as it was, was too much to bear.

Justin’s hands drifted over her body, caressing the curve of her breast as she whimpered, her lips against his neck. He sat on the arm of the couch, turning her back to his chest and letting his fingers hug the swell of her hips before pulling her back against him, the surging tip of him resting at her opening. His lips found the back of her shoulder and his hand cradled her stomach.

“Lyssa, I need you. Not just now. Stay.” His lips moved against her skin, making her shiver. “Tell me you’ll stay.”

“I will.” She shifted, sheathing his body with her own as his hands moved forward to cup her breasts, rolling the nipple between his fingertips, sending shock waves of pleasure over her body as she quaked against him.

Justin slowed, rocking into her, holding her hips again. As much as she loved his tenderness, she pressed herself against him, wanting more, craving all of him. Alyssa needed everything he would offer. Her body trembled as she tried to hold back her climax, waiting for him to join her. She fondled him as he thrust into her, wanting to torture him with this pleasurable agony as much as he was her.

“Hell,” Justin groaned as he bucked beneath her, driving into her, losing control.

Alyssa felt her body pulse with release, heard her voice cry out his name, and knew the moment Justin gave in to his own desire, wrapping his arms around her and holding her against his chest.

“That was far too fast. I wanted to spend the evening torturing you.” His words sent a tingle of anticipation down her spine even as heat coiled between her thighs again. Justin’s hands skimmed over her body, teasing her, toying with her senses until she squirmed against him. He chuckled with his jaw against her shoulder, the rasp of his day-old beard growth tickling the sensitive area.

She tipped her head to one side and smiled at him languorously. “We have all night, cowboy.”

He rose and reached for her hand, leaving her clothes scattered as he pulled her toward his room. “Then what do you say we take this to the bedroom, where it’s far more comfortable and I can do this properly?”

J
USTIN WOKE WITH
a start to the quick hiss of breath. “Lyssa?” He reached his hand over the bedding where she’d fallen asleep in his arms, her head tucked under his chin. Her scent still clung to the sheets. “Lyssa?”

Even in the darkness, he could make out the shadow of her, sitting at the edge of the bed, her head tucked toward her chest as she blew out a breath. She moaned softly and he could hear the pained sound she was trying to hide from his notice. He quickly flung the blankets off him and flipped on the bedside lamp.

“Call . . . hospital.” Her eyes were filled with fear. “The baby.” Justin hurried to his phone as she groaned and reached her hands around her stomach. “Justin, my water just broke.”

He immediately called his soon-to-be brother-in-law, Dylan. The man was a paramedic, and he prayed he was off-duty tonight. He would make it here before an ambulance could even get out of town. His sister’s groggy voice came on the line.

“Jules, I need Dylan here now. Lyssa’s in labor. It’s too early.”

“I’ll get him there. Call the emergency responders so they can send someone out.” He could hear her trying to rouse Dylan. “Justin, don’t worry too much. She’s almost full term. Her due date could be off. You’ve delivered hundreds of babies.”

“Those were animals, Julia.”

“Go back and help her. We’ll be there in ten minutes.”

He hung up and prepared to dial the emergency number as he tried to convince Lyssa to lie down on the bed.

“No, I’ll ruin it,” she argued.

“I don’t care about the bed. We’ll get another one. I’m not going to let you give birth on the floor.” He tried to keep his tone light. He didn’t want to alert her to his concern. According to what she’d told him, she was at least four weeks early. That alone could be dangerous for the baby, but if they couldn’t get her to the hospital in time, it could prove critical.

“Don’t yell at me,” she gritted through clenched teeth as another contraction stole her breath.

“I’m not yelling.” Justin helped her get settled, brushing back her bangs and pressing a kiss to her forehead. She was drenched with sweat, and he wondered how long she’d been in labor and trying to remain quiet. “I’m sorry, Lyssa. I’m not sure what to do to help you.”

“You do this all the time, Justin.” She bit back a laugh but grimaced as pain gripped her again.

Why does everyone keep saying that?

“I’m a vet, it’s not the same.” He reached for her hand. “How far apart are your contractions?”

She panted through another one, squeezing his hand as she blew through her pursed lips. She inhaled as deeply as she could, closing her eyes as the contraction lessened its grip on her. “I don’t know. They’re close. One minute I was fine and the next thing I knew, they started.”

“How long ago?”

“I’m not sure. Not long. I—”

Another contraction stole her breath, making it impossible for her to speak. “Don’t try to talk, Lyssa. I have Dylan on the way. He’s a paramedic, remember?” She nodded but he could tell she was far more focused on breathing through her pain than on listening to him. “I have to call for the ambulance, okay?”

“Don’t leave.”

He could see fear closing its grip on her. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here, okay?” He squeezed her hand. “I’m not leaving your side for anything.”

Justin felt her grip relax slightly and used the opportunity to call for help. He explained the situation to the operator on duty.

“Sir, there’s a big rig jackknifed on 50. I’m going to have to reroute the ambulance. How close are her contractions?”

“About every two minutes.”

“And how many weeks did you say she is?”

“A little over eight months.” He looked over at her and she nodded.

“Where is she now, sir?” Justin answered the operator’s questions but heard the front door slam shut. Julia hurried down the hall.

“We’re in my room,” he called, ignoring the way Julia’s eyebrows shot up on her forehead when she saw Lyssa in his bed. “Where’s Dylan?”

“Right behind me. He told me to grab some towels.”

“In the cabinet,” he directed as he tried to listen to the operator’s instructions.

Dylan smiled as he came into the room and made his way to the foot of the bed. “So, we’re having a baby today? Boy or girl? Weren’t you supposed to wait a few more weeks?”

“Boy.” Lyssa bit her lip, nodding as she looked up at him, and Justin could see her eyes mist, the fear rearing up again.

“How many weeks are you?”

“Thirty-six.”

“That’s nine months, Lyssa. I told them eight.”

“According to the doctor, it’s eight and a half.” She rolled her eyes toward Justin as he opened his mouth to argue. “Do you really want to debate the doctor’s semantics right
now
?”

“I knew I liked her,” Julia said, passing Justin the towels. “She’s a live one.”

Justin glared at his sister as Dylan moved to the foot of the bed. “Alyssa, I need to take a look and see where you’re at. Justin, you still have the operator on the phone right?”

He did but he’d forgotten about her. “Hello, sorry.” He listened as she scolded him for a moment before asking whom he was talking to. “We have a paramedic here.” He heard the relief in her voice as she asked to speak with him.

Justin didn’t want to leave Lyssa’s side when another contraction hit and she reached for him. Julia quickly came to his rescue, taking the phone and holding it to Dylan’s ear while he examined Lyssa. “I’m Dylan Granger. She’s fully dilated, completely effaced, and the baby is already crowning. Everything seems to be fine other than slightly premature at thirty-six weeks. I need an ambulance routed here, but she’s not going to make it to the hospital. I’m going to put you back on with my fiancée, who can keep you updated until the ambulance arrives.”

Dylan nodded to Julia and she moved away from the bed. “Alyssa, you’re ready to start pushing when you feel like it’s time, but if I tell you to stop, I need you to stop right away. Do you understand?”

Lyssa nodded, her hair caught in the tiny drops of sweat beading her brow. Justin brushed them back, feeling helpless, an ache blooming in his chest with every moan of pain from her lips. She was trying so hard to hold back, to not let him see how much it hurt her. Justin looked at Dylan, who nodded reassuringly.

“Okay, when the next contraction hits, I want you to go ahead and push.”

Her fingers tightened around Justin’s hand. “It’s coming,” she groaned.

Who would have thought that such a petite woman could have the strength to crush his hand like this?

He pressed a kiss to her temple. “Push, baby. You have this.”

She grunted as she began pushing. “Whoa, take it easy,” Dylan coached. “This little one is in a hurry. Blow your way through the contractions. Julia, can you hand me that towel?” Julia passed him the towel. “Justin, why don’t you come here and help me?” Julia nudged Justin, moving to sit beside Lyssa, taking her hand. “Hold the towel ready. Another push and we’ll have the head delivered, Alyssa.”

Dylan turned toward him. “She’s going fast,” he said quietly, knowing Lyssa couldn’t hear over her breathing. “There’s a chance the baby might have some breathing difficulties, so be ready to help me administer oxygen if we need to.”

“You think there’s trouble?” Justin studied Dylan’s face. He was solemn but didn’t look particularly worried, which settled Justin’s anxiety a bit. If there was one man he would trust to keep Lyssa safe, it was Dylan. He’d already saved Julia.

“She’s early, and the baby is coming fast. Faster than most. We need to be prepared.”

Justin heard Lyssa’s breathing quicken as she felt another contraction. “It’s coming,” Julia informed them, helping raise Lyssa into position. “Push, Alyssa.”

Justin held the towel out as the baby’s head emerged, pink and perfect, with a shock of dark hair. He stared down at the tiny scalp he held cradled in his massive hands, waiting to hear a wail. Dylan grabbed the edge of the towel and wiped at the baby’s face.

“Okay, Alyssa, when you’re ready, this last push should do the job.” He shot Justin a quick glance. “Be prepared because he’s coming.”

With the next contraction, Lyssa delivered her son, who immediately began mewing in protest. Justin stared down into the small face, scrunched up in complaint before letting out a loud wail. He’d never seen anything more beautiful or heard a sound that pleased him more. He looked over at Dylan, who grinned broadly and nodded as the baby’s cries grew louder.

“Congratulations, Alyssa. You have a beautiful son with a very healthy set of lungs.” He turned to Justin and indicated that he should let her hold the baby, relief written across his face. Justin realized how much Dylan had kept his fears hidden.

Justin laid the baby against her stomach, moving to her shoulders to relieve Julia as she spoke in soft tones to the operator, still waiting on the phone, repeating Dylan’s assessment. He pressed a kiss against her lips as her hands touched her son’s head and face.

“You were amazing. He’s perfect.” She looked up at him, and Justin could see the appreciation in her eyes.

“Alyssa, let Justin hold him while you finish delivering the placenta. Do you want to cut the cord?”

“Let Justin,” she whispered.

Justin felt his eyes burn with unshed tears, emotions sapping his ability to speak. He tucked the towel around the baby, keeping him warm as Dylan finished up and clamped the umbilical cord. He couldn’t help the tenderness that nearly drowned him as he held the child tucked in his arms, listening to the demanding cries quiet to murmured coos and grunts. After cutting the cord, he took the baby to Alyssa, lying propped against the pillows on his bed, and placed him in her arms, wrapping his around them both.

“He’s so beautiful,” she whispered. “Thank you.”

“Me? I didn’t do anything.” He brushed her hair back from her face with his free hand. “You and Dylan did all the work.”

“I just facilitated. You did the catching.” Dylan chuckled as he gathered the soiled towels from the bed. “The ambulance should be here soon. Do you want me to have Julia pack a bag for you?”

“You both have already done so much. Thank you.” Tears slipped down Lyssa’s cheeks, and Justin brushed them away with a knuckle as Dylan left them in the room. She looked down at her child clutching one of her fingers in a tiny fist. “Thank you, Justin.”

The tender sweetness in her voice squeezed at his heart as he stared down at the woman in his arms and he saw the vision of the future he wanted. Lyssa and this child meant more to him than anything. He knew that without a doubt, whatever he had to do, whomever he had to fight, he wasn’t letting her go.

“So, what did you say his name was going to be?” He curled his hand beneath hers, under the baby’s head.

She frowned. “It was supposed to be Elijah Jr.”

Justin felt his heart break for her but wondered why Lyssa would have any loyalty left for the man. He didn’t deserve her or his son. Elijah Cole had abandoned them both, then left her to fend for herself as he ripped her apart in the media.