“Same old same old. Conrad thinks I should interview for the hospital administrator position that just opened up at his clinic . . .” Tina grinned when Libby snorted in amusement at that. “I know, right? Oh, and this just in—the perfect couple are going to adopt the perfect child to complete their perfect life.” Another snort from Libby: she clearly knew exactly to whom Tina was referring. “Milla still has a stick shoved up her ass. Smith spent all evening trying to convince me to consider dyeing my hair a ‘more serious’ color. Auburn maybe.”
Libby laughed outright at that.
“Your brothers are buttholes.”
“I’m well aware of that,” Tina said with a laugh. “Fortunately, I don’t have to see them again for another two weeks.”
Libby started to respond to that but was interrupted when her parents and in-laws all came streaming into the room. Harris trailed in after them; his hands were shoved into his pockets, and he wore a lazy smile on his sensuous lips.
Right. Time to get out of here. Too much Harrison Chapman in one day could well lead to nightmares.
Tina dropped a kiss on Libby’s cheek. “I think it’s time to visit Baby Chapman. See you again soon, okay?”
Her friend nodded, and Tina left hastily.
She was halfway down the hall before she became aware of the presence just behind her. The familiar scent of him wafted toward her. He hadn’t changed his brand of aftershave since he was twenty. That warm, woodsy fragrance too often wove its way, without prejudice or preference, through her most erotic dreams as well as her most horrific nightmares.
She stopped walking and turned to face him.
“Why are you following me?” she asked on a fierce whisper, and he frowned.
“I’m not. I’m headed to the nursery, same as you.”
“You’ve already been.”
“There’s no limit on how many times I can see my niece,” he pointed out, his voice frustratingly calm. She inhaled sharply and shook her head before turning and resuming her walk. This time he fell into step beside her and shortened his stride to keep pace with her.
Tina ignored him. He didn’t push for conversation, and that unsettled her even further.
When she finally got to the nursery, she stopped at the huge viewing area and perused the bassinets of snugly wrapped little bundles.
“Third row from the top, far left.” Harris bent down to drop the information directly into her ear, and she jumped when she felt his warm breath on her skin. He was a hair shy of six foot one and had to bend almost in half to get to the five-foot-two Tina’s ear. She took a deliberate step to the side, putting as much space between them as she could, before scanning the babies again and focusing on the one he had pointed out. A nurse gently lifted the infant from her bassinet and brought her to the window for Tina to see. The baby was fast asleep, one tiny fist curled up against her chubby cheek while her mouth made little suckling motions.
Tina swallowed past the lump in her throat and felt her eyes burn with tears. She lifted a hand to her chest, trying to still the frantic thudding of her heart.
“Oh my God, she’s so beautiful,” she whispered, her voice wobbling alarmingly.
“That she is.” The deep masculine voice rumbled in agreement, and she jumped again.
Harris.
She couldn’t let him see her like this. She couldn’t be in his presence when she felt so utterly vulnerable.
“I have to go,” she said abruptly, before turning unsteadily and walking away.
“Tina. Hey! Are you okay?” he called after her, concern deepening his voice even further. She ignored him and picked up her pace, her eyes fixed on the elevator, mere steps away. It was her safe haven. An escape from Harrison Chapman’s crushing presence. From the memories that being around him evoked. Memories bubbling away much too close to the surface.
The elevator doors slid open before she could even push the button, and she rudely elbowed her way past a couple of exiting doctors and a woman clutching a huge bouquet of flowers. She turned once she was safely inside and leaned against the back of the elevator, her eyes immediately catching Harris’s concerned gaze. She couldn’t look away, a deer helplessly trapped in the headlights, and she tensed when he took a step in her direction. She breathed a shuddering sigh of relief when the doors slid shut, severing the intense connection between them.
She was shaking uncontrollably, close to hyperventilating, and she wrapped her arms around her torso in an attempt to give herself some comfort. It was a trick she’d learned as a child; her parents weren’t big huggers, and her boisterous brothers hadn’t been very affectionate either. They had lived to torment and tease their only sister. So Tina had learned to hug herself. The gesture had soothed the lonely little girl she had once been, but the woman she had become found little solace within her own tightly wrapped arms.