He leaned forward and gazed through the windshield, spotting the flashing lights of an ambulance up ahead. With the traffic snarled by the emergency, Oliver decided he would get to his destination faster if he walked. After glancing at the meter, he pulled out his billfold and said, “You can drop me off here.”
He slid out of the taxi, attention on the pair of EMTs as they loaded someone into the ambulance. Between the numerous bystanders and his approach angle, Oliver couldn’t see much detail and wondered what had happened. As his ground-eating strides carried him toward his building’s entrance, he spotted a familiar figure in the crowd and made his way toward her.
“What’s going on?” he asked, stopping beside his assistant, his gaze on the ambulance as the EMTs slammed the rear doors. Heidi started at his question and turned worried brown eyes his way.
“That woman you asked me to find came by to see you and was struck by a bicycle messenger who swerved to avoid a car that unexpectedly cut him off.”
“Suzi?” Oliver’s gaze slashed toward the departing ambulance as it pulled away from the curb, stunned that she’d slipped through his fingers a second time. “Did you speak to her?”
“Her name isn’t Suzi,” Heidi explained, extending his phone toward him. “She called herself Sammi.” Heidi held up a backpack. “This is hers. I looked inside, and her name is Samantha Guzman.”
Oliver took the bag and his cell phone from Heidi, irritation flaring at his mistake. If he’d only cut short today’s outing, he might have arrived in time to save her. “How badly was she hurt?
“She hit her head when she fell and blacked out. That’s why we called the ambulance. She came to as the EMTs checked her out and complained that her wrist hurt, but she’s really groggy.”
Oliver flagged down a taxi and followed the ambulance to the hospital. With Sammi’s bag in his hands, he was able to convince the staff that they were together and followed a nurse’s directions toward a curtained area where she’d been parked. A hard knot of worry began to unravel at his first glimpse of Sammi—Samantha Guzman—after nearly six weeks, but seeing her lying so still and pale on the gurney tempered his relief.
Her lashes fluttered as he stood just inside the curtain, momentarily rooted to the spot. His breath lodged in his chest as she blinked several times, then gazed around in confusion. He could claim that they had unfinished business or that the amazing sex accounted for his obsessiveness, but the truth was she’d somehow wormed her way past his guards. For six weeks he’d been searching for this woman, and now that he’d found her, Oliver had no idea what to say first. Before he figured it out, a nurse entered the room.
“I understand you were in an accident,” she said to Sammi, glancing Oliver’s way as she bustled about checking vitals and asking standard questions. “The doctor should be in to check on you in a few minutes. Is there anything else we need to know?”
While the nurse had been busy, Sammi had spied Oliver looming off to one side of the cramped space. Her shock had registered as a brief widening of her eyes before she’d glanced away and not looked his way again.
Now, however, as she hesitated before answering the nurse’s question, her gaze darted his way once more. She murmured something too low for Oliver to catch, but he could see her eyes were dark with worry in her white face.
“How far along are you?” the nurse asked, making a note.
“About six weeks.”
This time Oliver picked up on her words. Six weeks.
That described how long it had been since he’d last set eyes on her. Oliver’s heart gave a strange lurch as several things collided in his brain. They’d slept together six weeks ago. She’d appeared at his apartment today. Had she come by to declare that she was pregnant and he was the father? Then he remembered the boyfriend who’d broken up with her the night they met. Wasn’t it more likely that he, not Oliver, was the child’s father?
At least he hoped that was the case. The idea that Oliver could be a good father was completely outside the realm of possibility. What did he know about being a loving, supportive parent? Absolutely nothing.
The nurse left while he’d been lost in thought, and he missed the chance to flee. Alone with Sammi, he fought for calm.
“You’re pregnant?”
“Yes.”
Is it mine?
“Is that why you came by today?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest as his heart thundered painfully against his ribs.
“I thought you should know,” she said.
“You thought I should know,” he repeated, thoughts racing. “Because you think it’s mine?”
She appeared unperturbed by his question. “I know it is.”
Although she didn’t come right out and tell him he was a jerk for questioning her, he flinched as if she’d flung criticism at him. Oliver frowned.
“I don’t know anything about being a father,” he said, speaking more to himself than to her.
“And I don’t know anything about being a mother.” Tears filled her eyes. “I guess neither one of us is ready to be a parent.” She lifted her hand to wipe away the moisture trickling down her cheek, then cried out and clutched at her injured wrist.
“Are you okay?” Oliver asked, stepping forward, unsure how to take away her pain.
“I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “I’m sure this has all been a lot to take in. I don’t expect anything from you. You can be as involved as you wish, or I’ll disappear out of your life. I just thought you deserve to know so you could make a decision.”
It stung that she’d presumed he was the sort of man who fails to step up and take responsibility. Yet could he blame her? He sure wasn’t acting like someone she could count on. What was wrong
