Crystal Green - From Doctor...to Daddy / When the Cowboy Said ''I Do'' - From Doctor...to Daddy

The plush carpeting in the hall muffled her footsteps as she approached his door. Wrought-iron sconces with their candlelight bulbs on the wall lit her way. Outside his door, she hesitated and knocked.

When she heard a muffled, “Just a minute,” from inside, she was relieved.

He opened the door and looked astonished to see her. “Erika! I was expecting room service.”

“Sorry, I’m empty-handed,” she joked.

He was wearing a gray sweatshirt and sweatpants and didn’t look much better than when he’d left downstairs. “Is something wrong? Did you need something?”

“I was worried about you,” she blurted out. “You looked terrible when you left. The truth is you don’t look much better right now.”

“Oh, thanks. That’s great for the ego.” Amusement danced in his eyes, along with the pain he must be feeling. “Come on in. I really do need to sit down,” he said with a loud exhale of breath.

He crossed to the living room and sank down onto the sofa.

She hurried to him and sat beside him. “You really should go to the emergency room, Dillon.”

“Let’s not go over this again. As soon as room service comes, I’ll eat dinner, get a shower, ice my ribs and go to sleep for the night.”

She should leave. She really should. But sitting next to him on the sofa like this, her arm lodged against his, her knee almost brushing his, she felt the urge to stay, even though she knew she couldn’t.

“How long ago did you call room service?”

“Only about ten minutes. It could be a little while until they arrive if they’re busy.”

Their gazes connected … held. Erika could see Dillon’s beard stubble. She wanted to smooth her hand over his jaw and comfort him in some way.

“Tell me about Scott Spencerman,” he requested.

That was the last thing she’d expected him to say. “Why?”

“Because your experience with him affected your life and I’d like to understand.”

“I don’t talk about Scott. He’s in my past.”

“Is he? Or is he the reason you don’t want to think about getting closer to me?”

Her heart ticked off a few vibrating seconds until she replied, “There are lots of reasons why I shouldn’t get closer to you.”

“I know. There are a lot of reasons why I shouldn’t get close to you, too. But here we are. So tell me about him.”

Sitting beside Dillon like this on his sofa felt intimate, though Erika wasn’t sure why. They were just sitting there talking, fully dressed, with no intention of doing anything else. Maybe it was the subject matter. Maybe it was Dillon’s voice, gravelly and gentle and encouraging.

After taking in a deep breath, she blew it out and stared straight head. “I was young and naive,” she murmured. “After high school, I waitressed, took a couple of business courses and finally ended up in that real-estate office. I was itchy for something else, not sure what I wanted, still living with my mother. I wasn’t … I didn’t …” She cast Dillon a sideways glance, intending to look away again. But his gaze locked to hers.

“I didn’t sleep around,” she finally said bluntly. “I dated, but not for sex. I was looking for somebody special. When I met the right person and we fell in love, then sex would mean something. Scott seemed to be everything I’d ever wanted. I wasn’t experienced enough to understand he never intended to stay in Thunder Canyon. More importantly, he never intended to take me with him if he didn’t. When he talked about Rome and Singapore and Cancun, I thought in the future we’d go there together as a couple … as a married couple. I didn’t see the warning signs. He’d only see me on certain nights at certain times. I just figured he had calls to make and business to take care of. It wasn’t until afterward I found out he was also dating someone in Bozeman. Everyone gossiped about me, but no one told me the truth.”

Dillon took her hand in his. “Would you have wanted to see the truth? Would you have listened?”

No one had ever asked her that question. She gave it a long moment of thought. “Maybe not. But when I became pregnant and Scott told me he never wanted to get serious, that he wasn’t just dating me, that he’d be leaving soon, I didn’t see it coming. I was so foolish,” she said shaking her head.

“You were young without much experience with men.”

“I was stupid. But Emilia is the wonderful result. She’s helped me grow up and I love her to pieces. Now I’m just grateful I have her and I try to forget the rest.”

“How often do you hear from him?”

“Never. He’s not in our lives. When he left, he made it clear he wanted nothing else to do with me, or a baby.”

“He doesn’t pay child support?”

“When I was out of work after Emilia’s delivery, I considered trying to find him. But if he paid child support, I’m afraid he’d want something in return. If he doesn’t care about his daughter, I don’t want him anywhere near her. I’ll raise her on my own.”

“Does he know he has a daughter?”

“No. But if she wants to search for him one day, I’ll help her. For now, it’s just the two of us and that’s okay. We’ve got a good life.”

“I can’t imagine a man wanting nothing to do with his child,” Dillon murmured.

“That’s because you’re a different kind of man,” Erika said, part of her knowing it, part of her afraid to believe it. That pained expression was back in Dillon’s eyes … as if he didn’t agree with her assessment. But he lifted their hands, studied their entwined fingers and leaned a little closer to her.

She lifted her chin, anticipating his kiss, ready to feel his arms around her again.

He enfolded her in his arms, began a heart-tripping kiss, but then pulled away. “You’ve had a raw deal once and I don’t want that to happen again. In a few weeks, I’ll be leaving. We both need to remember that.”

The problem was she still wanted him to kiss her, even though she knew he’d be leaving. Was she willing to risk falling in love with Dillon Traub—and having her heart broken all over again if she did?

Fifteen minutes later, Erika paced Dillon’s living room. She’d agreed to stay until he was finished in the shower. What if the pain in his ribs suddenly got worse?

Dillon had left his cell phone on the occasional table next to the sofa. Just as she heard the shower turn off in the bathroom, his phone chimed. Crossing to it, she picked it up and saw Dr. Babchek’s number in the caller ID.

Hurrying to Dillon’s bedroom, she peeked inside the open door. Apparently Dillon was still in the bathroom. “Dr. Babchek’s on your cell,” she called. “Should I answer?”

The bathroom door opened a crack. “Yes. Thanks. I’ll be out in two minutes.”

She opened the phone and greeted the caller, just as she would if she were sitting outside Dillon’s office. “Good evening, Dr. Babchek. This is Erika Rodriguez, Dr. Traub’s receptionist. Can you hold for about two minutes?”

“I can hold,” Dr. Babchek told her in a deep voice that wasn’t the least bit impatient.

Erika retreated to the hall outside of Dillon’s bedroom. It didn’t seem right to be inside.

When he finally emerged, her breath caught. His hair was still damp from his shower and looked tousled, as though he’d run a towel over it. He was wearing black jogging shorts but there were still beads of water in his chest hair and on his very muscled upper arms. He might as well have been naked the way her heart was racing.

When his gaze landed on her, she blushed and handed him the phone. Although she’d been overwhelmed by the virility emanating from Dillon, she’d still caught sight of the bruising on his left side, which looked bad even to her untrained eye.