One Secret Night, One Secret Baby. Charlene SandsЧитать онлайн книгу.
ruff...ruff, ruff.
Her phone rang again. She grappled for it inside her purse and put it to her ear. “Hello.”
“Hello.”
It was Dylan. There was no mistaking that deep baritone voice that had half the female movie-viewing population panting to hear more. “Oh, hi.”
She hinged her body up, planted her feet on the ground and shook her head to clear away the grogginess.
“I didn’t wake you, did I?”
Did she sound as if she’d been sleeping? She tried her best to pretend she was wide-awake. “Not at all. I’m up.”
“Busy?”
“No. Just sitting here...going over a few details in my head.” A yawn crept out and she cupped her hand over her mouth to hide the sound. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing much. I spoke with Darren on the phone and my manager stopped by to check on me tonight. To be honest, I’m going a little stir-crazy.”
“You’re used to being busy.”
“I can’t wait to get back to work. But then, I’m dreading it at the same time.”
“I get it. It’s because of Roy. It’ll be strange for you to go about your daily routine knowing that he’s gone and you’re going on with your life.”
“How come you’re so smart, Em?”
“I got lucky in the brains department I guess.” She chewed on her lip. She still wasn’t comfortable speaking to Dylan with this big black cloud hanging over her head. It made her feel guilty and disingenuous. And why was he suddenly her best friend? Did that knock to his head change his perspective? They’d always been cordial, but since his rise to celebrity status, she hadn’t exactly been on his radar. All of a sudden, he was behaving as if they were best buds.
He was disoriented. Fuzzy in the brain. And in need of someone he could trust. But as soon as he was comfortable in his own skin again, things would change. She had no doubt. Dylan was a busy, busy man, sought after by the masses and the media, with who knew how many opportunities for work.
She scrunched up her face. Don’t get used to his attention, Emma.
“Well, I won’t keep you,” he said. “I’m calling to confirm our date.”
Date? A bad choice of words. “You mean the hospital thing?”
“Yes, it’s this Friday morning. How about I swing by your place around nine to pick you up?”
“That’s fine. I’m still not sure of my part in all this, but I’m happy to help out.”
“You are helping out. You’re helping me.”
The way he said it, with such deep sincerity, tugged her heart in ten different ways. And it dawned on her that it wasn’t just returning to work he was partially dreading, but going out in public for the first time with everyone expecting to see Dylan McKay back in true form. That was clearly worrying him. He didn’t know if he was ready for that. He needed the support of his sister and friend.
“And you’re going to make a difference in a lot of children’s lives.”
“I hope to. See you around nine, Em. Sleep tight.”
“You, too.”
Emma ended the call and sat there for a few minutes taking it all in again. She had to stop dwelling on Dylan McKay. Food usually kept her mind occupied. But oddly, she wasn’t hungry. In fact, the thought of eating right now turned her stomach, so she nixed that plan and picked up the TV remote. She hit the on button and her small flat-screen lit up the dark room. The channel, tuned to the local network, was airing a movie. She settled back, propping up her feet, and stared ahead.
Dylan McKay’s handsome face popped up, filling most of the screen, his bone-melting blue eyes gazing into the pretty face of Hollywood’s latest darling, Sophie Adams. The cowboy and his girl were about to ride into the sunset. The camera zoomed in for the movie-ending kiss, and just like that, something cold and painful snared Emma’s heart as Dylan’s mouth locked onto Sophie’s.
Hitting the off button did little to calm her. Why couldn’t she get away from Dylan?
Falling for the unattainable was romantic suicide. She wasn’t that stupid.
She’d just have to get over her secret dibs.
End of story.
* * *
She was ready at precisely nine o’clock. When the doorbell rang, she took a quick glance in the mirror, checking her upswept hairstyle, snowy-white pants and the sherbet-pink blazer she wore over a dotted swiss top. A tiny locket nestled at the base of her throat; that, silver stud earrings and a fashionable chunky watch were all the jewelry she’d opted for. She was going for a professional look without appearing unapproachable to the children. A little thrill ran through her body. Seeing Dylan aside, she was looking forward to meeting the kids, knowing firsthand how hard it was for a youngster to be outside the mainstream. She’d been one of those kids. Lucky for her, she had been healthy, but she’d been different, unloved and unwanted, and she’d never really felt as if she belonged.
Today was all about the kids.
She opened the door and was immediately yanked out of her noble thoughts as she took one look at Dylan standing on her doorstep. She’d expected his driver. But there Dylan was, in the flesh, his bandage gone now, the scar on the side of his head that would eventually heal only making him appear more manly, more dangerous, more gorgeous. Dressed in new jeans and a tan jacket over a white shirt, he smiled at her. “Morning. You look great.”
She didn’t feel great. She had woken up pale as a ghost and feeling boneless from tossing and turning all night. But his compliments could get to her, if she put stock in them. He was smooth. He was the consummate lady-killer. He knew which buttons to push to make females fall at his feet. And with her, she was sure, he wasn’t even trying.
“Thank you. Is Brooke with you?”
He shook his head. “Brooke cracked a tooth this morning. She called me in a panic and said she had to get it fixed right away. I guess it’s because of your event tomorrow, but she bailed. She’s got a hot date with the dentist in twenty minutes.”
Or rather a hot date with Royce next week and she couldn’t go toothless. “Oh. Poor Brooke.”
“She didn’t call you?”
Emma lifted her phone out of her purse and glanced at the screen. “Oh, yeah, she did,” she said. “Looks like a voice mail this morning. I was probably in the shower.”
Dylan’s eyes flickered and roamed over her body. Gosh, he was Flirt Central without even knowing it.
“I’m ready. Or would you like to come in?” Oh, boy, had she really invited him in? The last time he’d been here, they’d...
He glanced behind her and scanned her apartment as if seeing it for the first time. It was clear he didn’t remember coming here.
She put those thoughts out of her mind and wondered what he would think of her two-bedroom apartment tucked into an older residential area of Santa Monica. There were no views of the ocean, no trendy, glamorous furnishings or updated kitchen. But it was all hers. And she loved having...stuff of her own.
“Maybe some other time,” he said politely. “We should probably hit the road.”
After she locked up her apartment, Dylan took her arm and guided her through the courtyard to the limousine parked by the sidewalk. “Here you go,” he said as the driver opened the door. She slid in and Dylan followed. “I haven’t gotten clearance to drive yet,” he explained as he settled into the seat across from her by the window.
But it wasn’t as if being carted around in a limo was foreign