Dangerous Embrace (Embrace #1) (34 page)

“Could you be pregnant?”

“No.” Her stomach did a little flutter. “I can’t be pregnant.”

“I know you’ve been told you couldn’t, but I can run some tests.” He put his notepad down and slipped off his reading glasses. “Do an ultrasound, take a good look at your uterus if you wanted to be sure.”

“No, I don’t—no.” She shook her head. “I’m sure it’s a virus or something like that. I’m not pregnant.”

“You may be anemic, that could cause you to be tired, but not the vomiting. Although, considering you haven’t had a period, you shouldn’t be anemic. We’ll check your thyroid and hormone levels too.”

“Have you noticed any particular types of food that make you sick?”

“No, sometimes I wake up sick.”

“Really? And you don’t think it’s possible for you to be pregnant.”

“No, I’m not pregnant. I am absolutely not pregnant,” she repeated, pounding her knee lightly with her fist in hopes to pound out her nervous energy.

“Okay. I want you to start a food journal so we can trace it and pinpoint what might be causing it. Also, keep saltine crackers next to your bed and nibble on a couple before you get up. That tends to help with the nausea.”

“Okay, that sounds easy enough. Do you think I can go back to work now?”

He chuckled. “No, we already agreed. I’m not going to release you until after the first of the year.”

“I’m fine though. I’m working out with Mark. He’s teaching me self-defense and I’m back to running. I don’t understand why I can’t work.”

“Sarah, the kids are going to be out on holiday vacation in a week anyway. Why don’t you just enjoy your time off?”

“I’m restless. I’ve been cooped up for months.”

“It’s just a few more weeks. In the meantime, I’m sending you home with anti-nausea pills, and I want you to take care of yourself. Don’t stop eating to avoid being sick. Start taking some vitamins to help boost your energy.”

“I can do that,” she said.

He gave her a long look. “I’m doing a pregnancy test just in case.”

“Okay, but you’re wasting your time.”

Dr. Davidson smiled at her. “We shall see.” He stood and reached for the door handle. “Don’t forget to visit the lab before leaving.”

 

~

 

When Sarah got in the truck with Randy, she rested her head back and closed her eyes.
Pregnant
, she thought,
gimme a break—please.

“You okay?” Randy asked.

“Yeah, fine.” She thought of Ali’s huge belly and for the first time in years, she felt envious.
Get over it, Sarah. Shake it off and get over it.
“Mark wants us to meet him at Ali’s house. Will you drive me there please?”

“You got it.”

When Sarah knocked, she didn’t get an answer. She reached to knock again but jumped when the door was thrown open.

“Hello? Oh well, hello there.” His eyes widened and he looked her up and down with a grin that made Sarah’s skin crawl. At least the pervert had managed to suppress the whistle that went along with his expression.

“Hi, I’m Sarah. I’m here to see Jamie.”

“Oh, right. You must be Mark’s new girlfriend. I’ve heard about you.” He leaned against the doorframe and stuck his hand in his pocket, staring at her like the cat that ate the mouse.

He was older than her, though not much taller, and a little thick around the middle. Sarah had to wonder if this was Carl. God help Ali if he was. This man couldn’t compete with Mark in his wildest dreams.

Her pulse spiked when he looked her up and down again.

“I’m sorry, but who are you?”

He held out his hand for her to shake. “I’m Carl Hayes, Jamie’s step-dad.”

Not Ali’s husband but Jamie’s step-dad. Hmm.
She ignored his hand. “Is Jamie here, I believe he and Mark are expecting me.”

He tilted his head over his shoulder. “They took off a little while ago.”

“Is Ali home?”

“No, she stepped out. Would you like to come in?” He held the door wide.

Sarah glanced around the large foyer, and then she shook her head. “No, I can wait here.”

“I can get you a glass of wine, maybe a beer. You don’t want to have a drink with me...”

“No, thanks,” Randy said, stepping up on the porch behind her. “The lady is just looking for Mark. Where is it that you said they went?”

Sarah smiled her biggest most sarcastic smile. “This is Randy. Randy, this is Carl.”

Carl’s mouth froze half-open, and Sarah thought for a moment that he might have peed himself. “He, ah...they went to the park around the corner.”

“Great,” Sarah said. “Thanks. We’ll go catch up with him there.” She turned on her heel and walked away, wondering what in the hell Ali was thinking when she hooked up with that pig.

When she climbed into the truck with Randy, she tried to push away the uneasiness she felt after meeting Carl.

“You okay?” Randy asked.

She nodded and looked over at him. “Thank you.”

“Next time, I pound his face in.”

She smiled. “Next time
I’ll
pound his face in.” Her smile dropped. “Please don’t tell Mark. I don’t want him to have to worry about this on top of everything else.”

Randy gave her a long look. “I won’t mention it unless he does it again.”

“That’s good enough for me. Thank you.”

 

~

 

The next morning Sarah woke to her front door closing hard. She jerked awake and then got up to see what was going on. Before she got her robe on, Mark came around the corner with a big grin on his face.

“Who’s here?”

“No one.” Mark reached out to cup her neck, pulling her close. He kissed her with more force than she was expecting.

She pushed him away. “We’re not doing that with Randy in the next room.”

“I sent him home. It’s just you and me,” Mark said, taking her mouth with his again.

She smiled into the kiss. “We’re alone?”

“Yeah, I thought we could all use a break.”

“What about—”

“I think I can handle your security for one day, don’t you?” Mark lifted his eyebrows and said, “Besides, I don’t plan on leaving the bed, much less the house.”

He kissed her hard and then withdrew quickly, taking her by surprise.

“There is something I’ve wanted to do with you since the first—second time I saw you, maybe now you can oblige me.”

“You want to take a shower with me?”

His eyes grew wide. “How did you know that?”

“I’ve got you all figured out, cowboy.”

“I’ll be right back.”

He rushed to the bathroom and came back a minute later, lifting her nightgown up and over her head.

Before she was ready, he swept her off her feet. She shrieked and grabbed hold as he carried her into the bathroom and stepped into the shower. When he released her, she slid down his body. The hot water was another shock to her system, running in sheets down her back and saturating her hair.

Mark’s lips sought hers, and then traveled across her jaw in a trail of soft kisses. His blue eyes filled with passion as he cupped her breasts. He explored, pinching her nipples and letting his palms glide across her wet skin. His hand slipped between her legs, parting her, entering her, and massaging her. Before she realized what he was doing, she was pressing against him, moving with his touch as heat radiated from her core and traveled outward through her body until it reached her fingers and toes.

She held onto Mark’s arms, afraid her legs would give out. He drove her closer, stopping just before and pulling away. When she moaned in protest, he hoisted her up by the hips in one fluid motion. She couldn’t react, taken aback when he was suddenly hard inside her, stroking slowly, letting the water flow between them. It’d been weeks since they’d made love, and now they were making up for lost time.

Sarah made fists in his hair and locked eyes with him. His gaze held hers, the desire in his stare mesmerizing. She felt a stir in her soul like nothing she’d ever felt before and a connection so strong it consumed her. She couldn’t look away, and with every stroke he drove her higher.

Unable to hold back, she arched and dropped her head, leaning against the shower wall, wanting to feel him fully. Mark drove faster, harder. She couldn’t hold on, couldn’t wait for him. Her climax rushed through her with an ache so sweet she didn’t want it to end. Within seconds, Mark was crying out too.

He leaned forward, resting on the wall as Sarah collapsed on his shoulder, trembling, and breathing in spurts, wanting to cry from the pleasure. She clung to him, not sure she could hold herself up if he let her down.

He held on and whispered in her ear. “I love you, Sarah.”

Chapter Thirty

 

Mark pounded the keyboard and switched camera views again. When he heard a noise, he peered around the corner and listened for Sarah’s footsteps.

They were both exhausted after a day of lovemaking. She was still sleeping, but his mind wouldn’t slow down long enough for him to enjoy the afterglow. He turned back and glanced at the pictures sitting on Sarah’s desk. When he glimpsed one with her and Devon, he picked it up. Her smile so bright she almost looked like a different person. He wanted that smile on her lips every day, dammit.

“Fuck! C’mon, bastard.” He cursed to the empty room.
She can’t live like this forever—we can’t live with Randy and Shane shadowing our every move forever.
He switched camera angles again and then looked up at the clock and out at the darkening sky. Shane would be there any minute to cover the evening shift. At least he and Sarah had been able to spend the day together without an audience.

He stood to go watch for Shane, but before he turned, something on the screen caught his eye.

With a racing pulse, he stared at the dark figure as it skirted the driveway, with Shane lurking fifteen feet behind him.

Mark rushed out the backdoor and inched around the house toward the front drive. He peered around the corner and saw a man, ski mask covering his face. One hand held an envelope, and the other a small gun. As he reached out for the handle of the mailbox, Shane inched silently closer.

Got him, yes!
Mark could hardly contain the adrenalin racing through his veins.

After the letter had been placed in the box, Shane shouted, “Don’t move, scumbag!”

Mark’s eyes jetted back and forth between guns as fire blasts erupted from each pistol in the darkness. He couldn’t tell if either hit their intended targets. He reached for his own gun and then cursed. He’d left it next to the bed.

When he didn’t hear more threats from Shane, he felt a gripping fear in his chest.
God dammit, Shane, where are you?

The masked man turned and ran back down the driveway. Mark took off after him and jumped him from behind. They both fell to the ground as the gun went flying. The man rolled over with Mark clinging to his back. He rammed his elbow into Mark’s ribs numerous times while Mark held him in a headlock.

After struggling for several minutes, Mark felt a cold blade slice through his shirt sleeve and the warm gush of blood as it spread down his forearm. He jerked away to avoid the second swipe. When the attacker scrambled to his feet, he reached out and slashed at Mark’s chest, missing him.

Both men turned when Sarah yelled, “Stop!”

She stood in the middle of the driveway, pointing Mark’s gun at the masked man with a steady hand. He scrambled to his feet and took off running down the street.

Mark ran to Sarah and snatched the gun out of her hand. “Call 911 and Brian!”

“I already did, they’re on their way.”

“Get back in the house and lock the door—now!”

Mark sprinted down the driveway and he could hear the sirens approaching. As he turned onto the street, an engine came to life.

He pointed and shot, emptying the gun into the windshield of the car as it barreled toward him.

 

~

 

She sat there, scared out of her mind all night, but when Mark started to finally stir, her heart raced with relief. He reached for her but didn’t seem to have the strength to lift his hand up enough. She laced her fingers with his. “Mark... honey, look at me.”

“Sarah...Where am I?”

“You’re in the hospital.” She fought to put a smile on her face. He slowly lifted his lids and met her eyes. His were both black and bloodshot.

“Mr. Summors, how do you feel?” the nurse asked.

Mark lifted his head. “What happened?”

“You’re very lucky. Only a concussion, no broken bones. You’re going to be sore for several days.”

He reached up to touch the bandage over his left temple. “I don’t feel very lucky.”

“Ten stitches and you’ll have a scar, but it should be fine.”

Mark jerked up quickly. “Shane?” His face paled even further, and he slowly drifted back down on his pillow. “Shit—what happened to Shane?”

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