Feeling extremely uncomfortable, he cleared his throat.
“Sorry to wake all of you up. I just wanted to see Mandy for a minute.”
Caroline dropped her hand. Her eyes narrowed. “She was worried about you. I’m sure she’ll be glad to see you.”
It was a reprimand, plain and simple, for leaving without telling Mandy where he was going. He didn’t know what to saysince she was most likely right, so he set his suitcase down and pushed down the expandable handle.
“Are you moving in?” Allison asked, sounding amused.
“I came straight from LaGuardia.”
Allison yawned. “First door on the right. Go for it. I’m going back to bed.”
She went down the hall, tugging her tank top down over her panties. But he’d already seen way more than he’d meant to, including her left butt cheek. With a grimace, he glanced at Caroline, who did not look pleased with him.
Glancing around, he could see that the apartment was small, with bedrooms carved out of what was originally probably larger living areas. He remembered that Mandy had mentioned her room was tandem with Caroline’s.
“Uh…do I have to walk through your room to get to Mandy?”
“Yes. Just let me grab my pillow and a blanket and I’ll sleep on the couch.”
“I’m not going to be that long,” he protested.
She snorted. “Let’s not make this any more awkward than it already is.”
The pink pigs on her shirt wiggled as she stomped into her bedroom and reemerged with a huge comforter and double-wide pillow. Passing him, she clipped him with her shoulder and stumbled a little. Damien reached out and tried to steady her, but she shook him off.
Feeling like a gigantic jackass, he went into the bedroom and stood still for a minute, adjusting to the dark. He could hear Mandy breathing in her sleep to his right. Some light filtered in through the white wood blinds and cast stripes on her legs, covered by a sheet.
They had their air-conditioning running, yet Mandy still looked warm, her hair matted to her forehead, her legsscissoring like she was trying to kick the covers off in her sleep. He thought she was amazingly beautiful.
“Mandy.” She didn’t stir, so he took a step toward her and spoke louder. “Mandy.”
She rolled over. Damien cursed, rubbing his temples. He dropped to his knees next to her bed and shook her shoulder a little. Her flesh was hot, with a sheen of perspiration, which he knew was normal for this stage of pregnancy. Night sweats, the book called them.
“Mandy.” Feeling desperate and ridiculous, he shook her again and kissed her lightly.
With a jerk, she came awake, her eyes wide and unfocused. “Wha...”
“It’s me, Damien.”
“Damien? What’s the matter?” Mandy tried to sit up, but he held her shoulders gently.
“Shh. It’s okay, nothing’s the matter. I just needed to see you.”
He had needed to see her, to touch her, to remind himself what could never be. To stare her straight in the eye and tell her that love was pain and he didn’t want any more of that ever.
Yet it was so hard to remember any of that when she blinked up at him and all he wanted to do was kiss her, hold her, love her.
Chapter Twenty-One
Mandy fell back against her pillow, thinking she was having a really vivid dream, that annoying pregnancy side effect that had been plaguing her nearly from conception. But Damien looked real enough, even if she couldn’t see his face clearly in the shadows. And if she were dreaming he would be naked. “I thought you were in Chicago. And what time is it?”
She was struggling to figure out why he was in her bedroom in the middle of the night. Not that she was complaining, mind you. But it struck her as a little odd, to say the least. She was hoping it was odd in a good way, as though he’d had an epiphany that he reciprocated her feelings.
“I was in Chicago, but I just got back. It’s two in the morning. After you called this afternoon when I was getting the tattoo, I finished up my business and took the first flight back.” He brushed her hair back off her forehead.
Sitting up, Mandy grimaced. Her hair was sweaty. Nice and sexy. Not that Damien seemed interested in sexy when she studied him in the dim lighting. He looked as if his dog had been kicked. Which meant anything he might say was probably not going to involve his own vow of love and wish to remain by herside through better or worse, richer or poorer, having another man’s child, whatever.
