“How’s that for timing?” Sasha said with a grin. “Now, where’s my boy?”
Erin leaned forward to give her friend a quick hug before stepping back to let her through. “He’s on his mat in my sitting room and is thoroughly entranced by the play gym you gave him. You spoil him, you know.”
“Ah, he’s easy to spoil. And how are things going with Mr. Handsome?” Sasha asked, waggling her eyebrows. “This old married lady wants to live vicariously.”
Erin laughed, wondering what Sam would think of Sasha grilling her about him. “Old? I don’t think so. And ‘things’ as you so neatly put it, are going just fine. Mr. Thornton is the perfect guest. Not a single complaint from him so far.”
“And what would I have to complain about?”
Erin’s cheeks flared with heat for the second time that morning. She wheeled around to see Sam leaning nonchalantly against the doorjamb that led into the kitchen. Damn it, but the man could move as silently as a ghost. Just how much had he heard? She suffered a moment of silent agony at the thought that he might have caught Sasha’s moniker for him, and hoped like mad that he wouldn’t have thought it had come from her.
“Nothing, I hope,” she said with what she hoped was a calmness she was far from feeling on the inside.
“Of course not,” Sasha interjected. “Erin’s one of the best in the business. Hi, I’m Sasha Edsell.”
“Sam Thornton.” Sam offered his hand. “Sorry to interrupt you ladies, but I just wanted to confirm what time we’re leaving?”
“About a quarter past nine, if that’s okay with you?”
“Great, thanks. Nice meeting you, Sasha.”
Sam excused himself to get ready, leaving the two women alone. As he disappeared from view, Erin puzzled over the way it almost seemed that he’d wanted to meet Sasha for himself, as if he hadn’t believed her when she said she trusted her friend with Riley. She eschewed the idea as quickly as she thought it. It wasn’t as if Sam had any say or interest in Riley’s welfare beyond that of a casual observer.
Sasha fanned herself theatrically. “Oh, my, you weren’t kidding when you said he was handsome. I don’t blame you for taking him with you today. If you left him behind I might have been inclined to jump his bones myself!”
“Sasha, please!” Erin said, putting a finger to her lips to caution her friend to silence. Sometimes Sasha’s enthusiasm for an idea was simply irrepressible and Erin couldn’t fight the smile that tweaked at her lips. “Besides, Tony would never approve.”
She didn’t for one minute think that Sasha would cheat on her husband. Her friend was very happily married but, as she’d pointed out more than once, she wasn’t blind.
“How are you going to manage with the gorgeous Sam for your trip into town?” Sasha asked as they entered the sitting room before picking Riley up for a cuddle.
“It won’t be a problem. He needs some stuff from the office supply store so I’m leaving him there. It’s just across the road from the lawyers. He said he’ll wait for me until I’m done.”
“Did you notice something familiar about him?” Sasha asked. “I feel like I’ve seen him somewhere before, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.”
“Familiar? No. Maybe you’ve seen him in the papers or something. I believe he’s some high-flying businessman in San Francisco, but he’s here on some kind of sabbatical to write a book.”
“Hmm, you could be right. Ah well, it’ll come to me if it’s important. You should go and get yourself ready if you’re going to leave on time,” Sasha urged. “Riley will be just fine with me.”
“Thanks, Sash,” Erin said. Satisfied that Riley was in safe hands, Erin shot through to her bedroom to change her clothes and get ready.
As she dressed, she thought about how grateful she was for her friend’s help. She wanted her wits about her for the meeting this morning, so not having the distraction of Riley there was a relief. Talking about the problems with the fertility clinic would be hard enough without having her beautiful, perfect son in front of her to remind her how much she stood to lose.
Sam drummed his fingers on the desk in his office, staring out at the tranquil bay beyond and wondering about the contents of the letter Erin had written to his lawyers. He knew exactly what was in the letter that had been sent to Erin, and he’d expected to have heard from his lawyer by now regarding her response. Now, it appeared she’d been dragging her feet over a reply. The knowledge that she’d been taking her time to write back when she could simply have called them on the phone or sent an email, lit a slow simmering anger inside of him.
Did she not care at all that Riley might have a living father? A man who wanted to love him and be a part of his life just as much as she was? A man who, if the tests checked out, had every right to be? A man who had denied himself the right to have a child, or even to love again, after letting down his wife so badly? That very same man was now faced with the enthralling opportunity to be a father after all, and she was stalling to keep him from it.
All it would take was a cheek swab. He’d already registered his own with the testing laboratory. This waiting around felt interminable. He’d wondered already how it would stand if he’d done the swab of Riley’s cheek himself, when she wasn’t in the room, but he had a suspicion that somewhere along the line her permission would be necessary before the legal eagles would accept such evidence in a bid for any kind of custody.
His fingers curled into a fist of frustration, clenching so tightly his knuckles ached. His lawyers had warned him the process could take more time than he was willing to allow. It was part of the reason he’d hired an investigator to find her and definitely part of the reason why he’d come here. Waiting had never come easy for Sam. He was a results-oriented person and to get results you had to do things. Still, it wasn’t as if he had any other option right now, but to wait. A glance at his watch reminded him that it was time to head downstairs.
Erin waited for him in the lobby. As he did every time he saw her, he felt that familiar tug of temptation and, oh, boy, did she look tempting. She’d changed from her usual jeans and a blouse to a simply tailored navy dress with white piping, one that left her slender arms bare, with a wide neckline that exposed her collarbones. His mouth dried as he imagined tracing those delicate hollows with the tip of his tongue. Swallowing against the dryness and averting his eyes from examining the rest of her body, Sam reached for the front door.
“Shall we go then?” he said.
“Yes, I’m all ready.”
They walked outside to the driveway where she’d parked the all-wheel-drive station wagon a little earlier. The car was much like the one he used to drive before the accident, right down to the color. A cold fist gripped his chest, making it difficult to draw a breath. He hadn’t taken the wheel of a vehicle since that fateful day. In fact, Ray was the only person he’d trusted enough to drive him since the accident. Even then, it had taken several nail-biting months before he’d relaxed enough to sit in the front passenger seat.
A cold sweat broke over his body. This had been a stupid idea. He had no idea what kind of driver Erin was. She could be a speed freak for all he knew. A trickle of moisture ran down his spine.
Oblivious to what was going through his mind, Erin smiled beside him and held up a key ring, offering it to him. “Would you like to drive?”
“Hell no!” he erupted.
She looked taken aback by his short outburst but calmly palmed the keys and went around to the driver’s side of the vehicle. He forced himself to take the necessary final step that would get him to the car door. His hand shook as he reached for the handle, lifting it and pulling the door open. He shouldn’t have suggested he come with her. He should simply have stayed in his room and kept working. But he refused to back down now. he hadn’t gotten where he was today by backing down from challenges—even if the only one challenging him was himself.
Somehow he seated himself in the passenger seat. He scrabbled for the seat belt, yanking it so swiftly the mechanism locked and failed to let him pull the belt out far enough to clip it.
“If you just let it roll back a bit,” Erin suggested, giving him a strange look, “it’ll let you pull it out slowly.”
He gave it another tug, a hard one, and it locked again. To his surprise, Erin leaned across him, her breasts pressing against his arm as she reached around him and her hand settled over his.
“Here,” she said, “like this.”
He forced himself to relinquish his death grip on the seatbelt and allowed her to release the belt before pulling it smoothly across his chest and lap.
“There you go,” she said securing it into the buckle. “All safe.”
Safe? She was kidding right? You were only as safe as the skill set of the next idiot on the road. In his case, he’d been that idiot, and Laura had paid the ultimate price for his arrogance. Sam forced himself to breathe slowly—in through his nose, out through his mouth—and try to relax.
“Thanks,” he said abruptly, his eyes locked on the windshield in front of him.
Erin started the car and eased it into gear, rolling slowly down the driveway. So far, so good, Sam thought, but all sense of safety fled the moment she turned onto the road. He tried to relax his grip on the door’s hand rest, but he failed miserably.
“How long is the trip?” he asked, his voice sounding unnaturally strained, even to his ears.
“Twenty-five minutes or so,” Erin said, her eyes flicking from the rearview mirror and back to the road in front of them again.
Twenty-five minutes. It may as well be a lifetime, Sam thought as she guided the vehicle along the winding road. He had to admit she was a competent driver, not taking any unnecessary risks or taking any of the corners too wide. He could almost kid himself that he was starting to relax until he saw a car start to pull out of a driveway ahead of them. His foot stomped an imaginary brake, the action earning him another cautious sideways glance from Erin but, thankfully, she kept her thoughts to herself.
By the time they reached the office supply store he couldn’t get out of the car fast enough.
“Will you be okay if I leave you now?” Erin asked quietly as she got out of the car to stand beside him, one small hand resting on his forearm as if to offer him comfort.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine, thanks,” he said stoically.
“There’s a café right there,” she said, pointing to a bustling business not far from where she’d parked. “And I’ll be just down the road. Do you want my cell number, in case you need me?”