Sleeping with the Sheikh: The Sheikh's Bidding / Delaney's Desert Sheikh / Desert Warrior. Brenda Jackson

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      Tess rose from the kitchen table and took Andi by both arms. “Just listen to yourself, Andi. You’re not making any sense. Sam promised he wouldn’t try something like that.”

      “He promised a lot of things, Tess, and he didn’t keep those promises, either. How can I trust that he won’t do the same thing again?”

      Tess narrowed her eyes and studied Andi dead-on. “Trust your heart, Andi.”

      Andi didn’t dare. She’d done that before only to be crushed in the process.

      The shrill of the phone caused Andi to jump. Pushing away from Tess, she grabbed it on the second ring. “Hello?”

      “Could I please speak to Ms. Andrea Hamilton,” a soft feminine voice asked.

      Frustrated that it wasn’t Sam, Andrea sighed. She didn’t need home repairs or a magazine subscription. “That depends on who you are.”

      “I’m Mrs. Murphy with the hospital in Lexington, and I’m calling concerning your son.”

      Sheer panic pierced through Andi’s momentary shock. “Has there been an accident?”

      Tess quickly came to Andi’s side as the woman continued to speak. “No, no accident. A Mr. Yaman brought Chance in. The boy’s blood sugar is low.”

      “Is he okay?”

      “He’s in the E.R. being examined now. Mr. Yaman asked if I would notify you.”

      “I’m on my way.” Andi hung up without saying goodbye and grabbed her keys from the hook by the back door. “Chance is at the hospital,” she called to Tess on her way out.

      “Let me drive you, Andi,” Tess said at the door while Andi crossed the yard to the pickup.

      “I’ll call you.”

      “Andi, are you sure?”

      She dismissed Tess with a wave. “I’m fine.”

      But was Chance?

      Andi managed the thirty-mile drive in record time. She rushed into the emergency room barking inquiries to anyone who would listen. Finally one nurse directed her to a curtained cubicle down a narrow corridor.

      Stepping inside, Andi stopped short at the scene playing out before her. Among the all-too-familiar sterile scents and scenery, Sam was stretched out in the small hospital bed, Chance curled against his side with his face turned in profile as his head rested against his father’s solid chest.

      Andi covered her mouth to stifle a sob when she caught sight of the IV tubing trailing from Chance’s slender arm. But she couldn’t hold back the emotions when she noted how natural they looked—one beautiful man with his large hand enfolding the equally beautiful child’s smaller one, an overt display of protection. The identical dark hair, the dark lashes fanned against their cheeks as they slept, presented a picture of peace that starkly contrasted with the colorless surroundings.

      As Andi took another step forward, Sam’s eyes snapped opened and he attempted a smile. Quietly he slipped his arm from beneath Chance and slid out of the bed without disturbing their son. He gestured for Andi to step outside. Reluctantly she complied, torn between wanting to hold her precious child and needing to hear what Sam had to say.

      “What happened?” she said, her voice hoarse with fear, clouded with emotions that she tried to keep at bay.

      Sam rubbed a hand over his jaw. “On the ride home he became very pale. I offered him some juice, as you’d instructed, but he refused. Then he began to perspire and became agitated. We were nearing Lexington so I instructed Rashid to come here. I knew not what else to do.”

      “You did the right thing, Sam.”

      He glanced away but not before Andi glimpsed the worry in his near-black eyes. “I have never feared much in my lifetime, Andrea. But this terrified me.” He finally turned his gaze back to her. “I only now realize how much you have been through with this disease.”

      “What Chance has been through,” Andi corrected. “It’s something you learn to deal with as a parent of an ill child. My love for him has seen me through.”

      “I suppose I am only beginning to understand that concept.”

      Andi bit the inside of her cheek to stop another onslaught of tears over Sam’s obvious pain. She had to stay composed. “Has the doctor seen him?”

      “Yes, a few minutes ago. He said that his levels seem to be stable, but he would like him to stay for a few hours to be certain.”

      Andi drew in a slow breath of relief and released it on a shaky sigh. “That’s routine.”

      “Then he has suffered this before?”

      “Yes. Several times at first, but not in a while.”

      “The doctor believes that Chance’s exhaustion perhaps brought on this attack.”

      Andi silently cursed her stupidity. “I should never have let him go to camp.”

      Sam took her by the arm and guided her against the wall opposite the cubicle. “Do not blame yourself, Andrea. Chance told me how much he enjoyed his time at the camp. You had no reason to believe this would happen.”

      She shot a glance at the parted curtain to see that Chance still slept. “I should’ve known.”

      Sam brushed a lock of hair away from her face, damp with the tears she had shed on the ride to Lexington. “The doctor also said you should consider putting Chance on a medicine pump to replace the shots.”

      “I’ve wanted to do that,” Andi said. “But it’s very expensive. I’ve been trying to save enough money to cover what the insurance won’t pay.”

      “I will take care of it,” Sam insisted. “You need not worry about funds.”

      She was worried about many things at the moment. “Did you tell anyone you’re Chance’s father?”

      “I told the physician, but Chance did not hear me, if that is your concern.”

      Andi felt incredibly selfish to question him at such a time. “I wasn’t worried exactly. I’d just hate to think that Chance learned something so important while he’s sick.”

      “I’ve told him nothing, even when he asked many questions on the ride back.”

      Andi’s concern came calling again. “What questions?”

      “He wanted to know if I knew his father. I told him that I did, but not very well. And that is the truth, Andrea.” He streaked a hand over his face. “I realize I don’t know myself at all.”

      Andi laid a hand on his arm. “I know you, Sam. You’re a good man. A good father.”

      He studied her with weary eyes. “Am I, Andrea? I am a father who must leave his son. There is nothing good in that.”

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