Reclaiming His Bride (DiCarlo Brides book 3) (The DiCarlo Brides) (22 page)

Lana had opted for an obstetrician in Denver, so Blake drove them down for her next checkup. Conversation had grown so much easier between them since they had told everyone about the baby and their relationship. He wished they had cleared away the secrets months earlier.

Before he knew it, they were in the examination room with the sonogram machine running in front of them.

“It’s looking good,” the tech said after pointing out hands and feet. “Did you want to know about the baby’s gender?”

Blake squeezed Lana’s hand and met her eyes. He nodded and smiled, but left the decision up to her.

“Yes, we do,” she said.

“Congratulations, it’s a boy.”

“So, DiCarlo genes can throw something besides girls,” Blake teased her.

She grinned hugely. “A boy. How do you feel about that, Daddy?”

Thrilled, excited, terrified, like his chest would burst with joy. Blake settled for “I’d be happy either way, but I kind of hoped for a boy.” He reached out and touched her face. “You’re more beautiful than ever right now.”

She blushed as she turned back to the doctor.

This. This was everything he wanted wrapped up in a perfect little package. To be holding the woman he didn’t think he could live without and a son. Who could want more than that?

Lana studied Blake as he pulled into the parking lot at the resort that evening. The doctor’s appointment had been in the afternoon, so with a stop for dinner and the drive back up the mountain, it had long-since gone dark.

He came around and helped her out of the car. 

“Come on up. I have something to show you,” Blake took Lana’s hand, and she followed, not even wanting to protest.

“What is it?” she asked as they entered the elevator.

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you, now would it?” His smile was so broad, his eye so devious, she wanted to kiss him.

Somehow she managed to hold herself back.

They only took a few steps down the hall before coming to his suite. He used his key card and let her go in first. In the sitting room, Lana nearly stopped when she saw the wrapped package on the coffee table. It had cute baby paper on it with ducks and frogs running helter-skelter across it.

“Open it.” He gave her a little nudge and she moved toward it.

She sat on the sofa, and he took the spot beside her. The paper was smooth under her fingertips and she could smell the ink on it. She was tempted to pull it off slowly, then decided just to rip it. The paper revealed a tiny snuggly dolphin and a tiny baseball cap with a matching dolphin on front.

“I was hoping it would be a boy. I would have been as happy with a girl, but I guess I’m just a typical guy that way,” Blake said. “Do you like it?”

“It’s perfect. Perfect.” Lana turned to him and touched his cheek. She’d never felt so close to him, so much like she was where she belonged. He bent his head and kissed her, at first soft and gentle, luring her in as his hands slid across the bare skin on her arms, and one buried itself in her hair, tipping her head. He took the kiss deeper with every minute, both of them wrapped up in the joy of their baby and of being together.

When he pulled her onto his lap, Lana acquiesced happily. Maybe it was time to really give this marriage a chance, she thought before turning off the voice inside her that kept whispering dire warnings. “Blake,” she said when their kisses seemed to have stretched into eternity.

“Yeah?”

“Take me to bed.”

Without missing a beat, he stood, maneuvering them through the furniture into his bedroom.

“So, you and Blake have worked out your differences?” Rosemary asked the next morning, carrying the tray of food Lana had ordered from the kitchen.

“Couldn’t help but bring me the order?” Lana asked. She fought the urge to touch her hair or straighten her jacket. Why did she feel like a naughty teenager—Blake was her husband.

“I didn’t get a chance to razz you this morning. Convenient that you keep a spare change of clothes and emergency makeup at work so you didn’t have to come home.” Rosemary’s grin was cocky as she set the tray on the desk, then sat in the chair across from Lana.

“So you know, I keep a spare set of clothes because I had someone spill coffee on one of my outfits in Chicago. Going home to change there was far less convenient, so I’ve always kept a spare since. And why am I justifying my actions to you? No one cares that Sage moved in with
her
husband.” Lana felt flustered and wrong footed.

“So you’re living with him now?” Rosemary picked a piece of fruit off the tray and popped it in her mouth, ignoring the fact that it was Lana’s breakfast.

“I... don’t know what we are.”

Blake showed up in the doorway. “Sorry. I couldn’t help overhearing. Rosemary’s voice carries.” He skirted around the desk and leaned on the edge of it, bringing his face within a foot of Lana’s. “Just to clarify, honey, would you move in with me so we can give this a real try?”

Lana felt her face flush, but she smiled. “I’d like that.”

He dropped a quick, hard kiss on her mouth, then backed up. “Great. I’ll go with you to pick up some things at the end of the day.” Then he returned to his office.

“Oh my!” Rosemary wiggled her eyebrows. “I guess that answers that question.” She stood and closed the door. “So how do you feel about it?”

Lana played with a pen and considered the question. “Excited, scared, and really, really happy. I’ve really missed him, even more than I thought I would.”

Rosemary’s grin relaxed. “I’m happy for you, and I really hope things work out for you and he doesn’t turn out to be like Dad.” She ended the phrase with a furrow between her brows. “I love him, but I just can’t understand what pushed him.” It was clear she was now speaking of their father.

Lana pressed her lips together. “Yeah. I haven’t been able to figure it out, either. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to reconcile his actions with everything else I knew about him. I wish I had a chance to talk to my mom again, find out why she stayed with him.”

“Well, whatever we finally decide about Dad, I wish you and Blake every good thing. You deserve it, and so does junior there.” She looked at Lana’s stomach, which was barely showing. Rosemary’s face was wistful.

“Thanks.” Lana wished she knew what bothered Rosemary, and could make her happy too. There was obviously something that haunted her past, but Rosemary refused to answer questions when the sisters tried to pry.

Blake’s first clue that something was wrong at the hotel was the high-pitched scream coming from the floor above him. His second was the radio crackling a minute later with the request that someone call 911. Someone had been attacked, and may be dead.

He and Lana hit the hall side by side and took the stairs at a run.

It turned out the scream had come from an older female guest who had opened her door to check for a waiter—who was running late. She found the young man who had been charged with delivering her brunch lying on the floor of the hallway, the tray of pancakes and eggs spread across the ground, and an authentic-looking tomahawk sticking out of his back.

The amount of blood soaking into the carpets made it pretty clear the kid was dead.

Blake’s stomach turned over, so he wasn’t too surprised when Lana ran into the open door of the closest room and hurled in their toilet. He stood in shock for a couple of seconds before his brain clicked and he checked to see if anyone had dialed 911. When Joel radioed back that he had and was on his way to them, Blake instructed the man from engineering who sat against the wall looking green, to stay there, afraid he’d pass out if he stood. He checked for the non-existent pulse on the victim, then took the woman aside to calm her blathering.

Joel arrived moments later, the other security man on duty right behind him, and directed everything from the body to the hysterical guest to blocking off the rest of the hall. Thankfully there were only a couple of other rooms that were occupied at the time, and the guests had apparently already gone out for the day.

Lana came out of the room, wiping her mouth and still looking sick. “I thought I was supposed to be past all of that.”

“It was enough to turn my stomach,” Blake soothed, putting an arm around her and leading her to the edge of the hall. “Go down and direct emergency workers up here, will you? Then keep people away. No doubt we’re going to have reporters here within the hour. The local paper may be on their way here already.”

Lana set back her shoulders and nodded, though her eyes still looked a little unfocused. “I can handle them.”

“Good.” He kissed her forehead, reveling in the fact that she let him and hadn’t checked first to see who else was around.

She strode away and he turned back to the gruesome scene in front of him. His mind clicked into list mode, unable to process the horror of the blood pooling around the boy’s chest, or the look of surprise on his face. This was somebody’s kid, and he wasn’t going home. Blake was glad the police would handle that and he wouldn’t have to, but the backlash in the press was going to make this even more nightmarish than it already was.

Lana sent the police and ambulance crews up to the correct hallway, fielded—or rather avoided—questions from curious guests, and prepared the front desk for a mass check-out—because no matter how they played this, people were going to leave. As an afterthought, she sent Alex a quick text telling him there had been a murder and that he better get PR into spin mode or whatever because the ceiling was about to fall on their heads.