The Pregnancy Plan / Hope's Child: The Pregnancy Plan / Hope's Child. Brenda HarlenЧитать онлайн книгу.
she had to be the one to walk.
She tore her mouth from his and pushed against his chest.
Chapter Four
Ashley stumbled back and cried out in pain. The obvious distress in her voice effectively doused Cam’s raging libido. He drew in a slow, deep breath then reached for her hand. She shook her head and took another step back, as if she couldn’t bear to have him touch her.
He didn’t know what he’d done to make her withdraw so abruptly and completely, but he wasn’t thinking about that at the moment. He was thinking about the fact that her eyes were clouded with pain now rather than lust, and he worried that she might have re-injured her hand.
“I just want to make sure that you’re not bleeding again,” he told her.
This time when he reached for her hand, she didn’t object. He carefully peeled back the gauze to check the wound, pleased to see that none of the stitches had opened up.
“It looks okay,” he said, refastening the tape.
She nodded.
“But I want to know why you’re not taking the painkillers when it’s obvious that you’re in pain.”
“I told you, I don’t like taking any medication unnecessarily.”
Ashley had never been practiced in the art of deception, and the fact that she didn’t look at him when she spoke told him more clearly than her words that there was something she was holding back.
“If you’re hurting, it’s necessary,” he insisted.
“I’m fine.”
“What medications are you taking that you didn’t want to tell me about?”
The question was a stab in the dark, but her lack of response made him believe it had been an accurate one.
“We can argue back and forth for another few minutes if you really want,” he told her. “But I’m not backing off until you tell me.”
“Fedentropin,” she finally said.
He frowned. “I’m not familiar with that one.”
“It’s an experimental drug to help alleviate the symptoms of endometriosis. I’m part of a clinical trial at Richmond Pharmaceuticals.”
“I didn’t realize …” He wasn’t sure what he meant to say, what was the right thing to say. He’d had no idea that she had to endure what he knew was a painful and chronic condition for a woman, and he hated to think of her suffering.
But Ashley just shrugged. “It’s not something that comes up in conversation.”
“It should have been noted in your file,” he said.
“Eli knows—I talked to him before I was accepted into the test group, but I haven’t had an appointment with him since.”
Cam believed there still should have been a note in her file, but right now he was more concerned about her current situation. “Is your sister running the trial?”
She nodded.
He picked up the cordless phone on the counter. “Call her.”
“Why?”
“I want to know if you can take the medication I prescribed or if I should write a scrip for something else.”
“Look, Cam, I appreciate your concern, but I took some Tylenol when I got home and I’m okay.”
She wouldn’t have cried out in pain if she was okay and since he figured they were both aware of that fact, he only asked, “Why don’t you want to call your sister?”
“Why won’t you back off?” she countered.
“Because I care about you.”
Maybe he was surprised by the admission, but not by the feelings. He did care about Ashley. He’d always cared about Ashley.
She turned away from him, but not before he saw the glint of tears in her eyes.
“You have no right,” she said, her tone laced with both hurt and anger. “No right to barge into my life after twelve years and make such a statement as if it gives you the right to interfere.”
It was true. He’d given up any right he might have had when he’d ended their relationship a dozen years earlier. But his feelings for Ashley had never been rational, and even when he’d gone away, his feelings for her never had.
“I’ve always cared about you, Ash, and I always will.”
She turned away to wrap up the leftover pizza, struggling a little because of her bandaged hand. “Thank you for your concern,” she said, not sounding thankful at all. “Now go away.”
He knew he should. But instead, Cam scrolled through the list of numbers stored in the memory of the phone still in his hand.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
He found “Megan & Gage” and pressed the call button. “Calling your sister.”
She stared at him, as if she didn’t really believe he’d do it.
“It’s ringing,” he warned her.
She grabbed the phone with her uninjured hand. As obviously unhappy as she was about making the call, she seemed to accept that he would talk directly to Megan if she continued to refuse and had likely concluded that her sister would have fewer questions for her than she would for him.
After a brief conversation, during which she reassured her sister numerous times that she was fine and didn’t need anyone coming over to check up on her, Ashley said goodbye and disconnected.
“That’s why I didn’t want to call her,” she said.
“Because you knew she’d be worried about you?” he asked, wondering why her sister’s concern should be a problem for Ashley.
“Because she’s spent too much time worrying about me, and even more over the past four months.”
“Since the broken engagement,” he guessed.
She nodded, making him suspect that she might be more distressed over the end of that relationship than he wanted to believe. And though he was undeniably curious about the ex-fiancé, he forced himself to focus on more immediate concerns.
“What did Megan say about the medication?”
“She said it’s fine. I just have to make sure that I inform the admin clerk of the dosage when I go in for my blood work.”
“Except you didn’t get the scrip filled, did you?”
“No, because I didn’t plan on taking it.”
He glanced at his watch. “I’ll call it in to Brody’s.”
“I’m capable of taking my own prescription in.”
“I know you are,” he agreed. “I’m just not convinced that you’ll actually do it.”
“Fine.” She thrust the phone at him. “Call it in and then leave me alone.”
He dialed the familiar number, spoke to the pharmacist and made arrangements for the medication to be delivered, throughout which Ashley continued to glare at him.
“It should be here within twenty minutes,” he told her.
“Do you plan on hanging around until it gets here?” she challenged.
“I don’t have anywhere else that I need to be, and I have no intention of letting you push me out the door until we’ve had a chance to talk about what happened in the kitchen.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” she denied,