Brenda Novak - A Baby of Her Own

“Morning,” he said, reaching out to soothe her and gather her to him, but she dodged his hand and scooted to the far edge of the bed.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, raising himself into a sitting position.

She groaned and put a hand to her head. “I can’t believe I did this,” she said, but Conner could tell she wasn’t talking to him. She eyed her dress lying on the floor, and then the sheet she was using to cover herself. Dropping the sheet, she streaked out of bed and scooped up her dress as she made a dash for the bathroom.

“Delaney?” he said, frowning in confusion. She’d been pretty jumpy when she first arrived last night, but she’d warmed up quickly enough, and the woman he’d made love to several times during the night hadn’t been inhibited at all. Now she was blushing and covering herself as though he hadn’t already seen her.

“I’ve got to leave,” she muttered, as the sight of her delectable backside disappeared around the corner.

“Why? What’s wrong?” he asked.

“This—everything!” she cried from inside the bathroom. She came out smoothing the skirt of her dress over her hips and dropped to the floor to find her shoes.

Conner felt a flicker of anger. Since she’d been a virgin, he could understand her having a certain amount of remorse, but he’d been careful to address that issue. And it wasn’t as though he’d coerced her in any way. “I warned you about the regret,” he said, wondering if he could have been clearer somehow.

“It’s okay,” she said. “It’s not your fault.”

“But I don’t want you to be sorry about what happened,” he told her. “It makes me feel as though I took advantage of you.”

“Don’t feel as though you—Don’t feel anything. It doesn’t matter. We’re never going to see each other again, anyway.”

That statement didn’t make him any happier than her previous one. “Actually, I was going to talk to you about that,” he said. “Will you slow down and give me a minute?”

She found one of her shoes and started forcing it onto her foot. “I can’t. I have to go now.”

“Where? I thought we’d order room service. Seemed like you were interested in that last night.”

“I can’t stay,” she said, coming up with her other shoe. “But I owe you a big apology. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. Truly sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” he demanded. “I may be alone in this, but I enjoyed last night.”

“I’m just sorry,” she repeated. “And I’m going to kill Rebecca.”

“Who’s Rebecca? Your friend?”

“Never mind.” She finally managed to get her other shoe on, grabbed her purse and started for the door but Conner jumped out of bed and intercepted her before she could leave.

“You’re really going? Just like that?”

She wouldn’t even look at him. She kept her eyes fastened on the door behind him. “I have to.”

“At least give me your number,” he said. “This is crazy.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not? I won’t be living far from here, and I’m willing to make the drive to Jerome. Come on, Delaney, I thought we had something here.” He smiled, hoping she’d relent and stay a little longer—he had a couple of hours before the foreman from the ranch was due to pick him up—but she didn’t. She remained stiff and unapproachable, and he knew she wouldn’t let him hold her now for anything, even though he wanted to do exactly that.

She hid her eyes with one hand as though she was feeling trapped and couldn’t decide what to do, but when she finally looked up at him, her expression softened. “All right. I’ll leave my number on the desk.”

He watched her cross to the pad and pen next to the room service menu, then searched for his jeans. He didn’t understand her sudden modesty, but he was willing to respect it if that made her more comfortable. Maybe if he was dressed, she’d calm down.

“Here it is,” she said. She ripped off the paper she’d been writing on, folded it in half and stuck it in the pocket of the shirt he’d draped over the back of the chair.

He finished buttoning his jeans and followed her to the door. “I’ll call you,” he said, trying to give her the space she obviously needed.

“Good, okay. I’ll talk to you later,” she said, then slipped out without even a goodbye handshake.

Conner frowned as the door clicked shut behind her, then cursed. What had happened between her falling asleep and waking up? He’d never had a woman turn around so quickly. He’d had them become clingy and possessive or almost sickeningly sweet in their bid for more time, more things, more promises, but Delaney was the first to sleep with him, dress and run right out of his life.

At least he had her number. He’d wait a few days and then give her a call, he decided. But when he pulled the folded paper out of his shirt pocket and opened it he felt like she’d just kicked him in the stomach.

Delaney hadn’t left her number. She’d written two small words: Thank you.

DELANEY SHOVED THE DOOR out of Rebecca’s grasp the moment she opened to her knock, and let it bang against the inside wall as she stormed through. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into that!” she said. “What on earth was I thinking?”

“That a one-night stand is cheaper than artificial insemination?”

“Don’t start with that stuff again,” Delaney warned. “I was being an idiot.”

“You were being assertive.”

“I was being aggressive! I was lying and manipulating others to get what I want. That’s not the same as being assertive, Beck.”

Her friend looked a little sheepish. “Was it that bad?”

Delaney pivoted at the end of the bed and began to pace. “It was worse than bad. It was terrible.”

“Terrible?” Rebecca echoed, tightening her bathrobe. “Don’t tell me he was into whips and chains or something.”

“No.”

“Was he a selfish pig?” she said sympathetically.

Delaney shook her head. “He wasn’t kinky or selfish. He was fabulous, a fantasy come to life. But that’s the problem.”

Rebecca’s brows drew together in obvious confusion as she shoved her tangled hair out of her eyes. “Let me get this straight,” she said. “He was good to you, and you think that’s a problem?”

“It is a problem!” Delaney cried, rounding on her. “I feel like a horrible person, a lecher, a loser. He trusted me, and I betrayed him. I was lying to him the whole time.”

Rebecca rubbed the sleep from her face and sank into the chair next to the round table that sported an All About Boise magazine and a giant bouquet of silk flowers. “It wasn’t a big lie.”

“I told him he didn’t need to worry about birth control!”

“So it was sort of a big lie. But that was the whole point. If you’d told him the truth, he wouldn’t have invited you up to his room.”

“I wish he hadn’t. I wish I’d never come here. I wish…” She stopped pacing and flopped onto the bed. “Oh God, what if I’m pregnant?”

Rebecca stood and leaned over her. “Wasn’t that the point of this whole exercise?”

Delaney remembered Conner’s surprise when she’d begun to leave his room, his earnest entreaty for her telephone number, and wished she could die. “No! If I’m pregnant, I’ll never be able to forgive myself, never be able to forget what I’ve done. I’ll have to stare into my child’s eyes and know…” She was about to say that deep down I’m no better than my mother, but she stopped herself because she couldn’t handle a philosophical discussion right now. She was too busy browbeating herself. “That I cheated his or her father.”

“You’re overreacting,” Rebecca said. “You haven’t hurt anyone. He had a good time, didn’t he?”