Desire Collection: November Books 1 - 4. Charlene Sands

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      She didn’t want to relive the worst day of her life, but the horrifying thought that it might not have been the worst day had her talking. “He got up. In the middle of the night. He’d had a headache all afternoon and it was getting worse, so he was going to take something. I was so pregnant I couldn’t sleep so when he didn’t come back to bed, I went looking for him. He was crumpled in the middle of the kitchen floor.”

      Eric lifted her hand to his mouth. “What happened?”

      “They said it was an aneurysm. He...” Her breath caught in her throat. Would this ever get easier? “He was gone by the time they got him to the hospital. It was the worst day of my life.”

      “Oh, babe.” Undoing his seat belt, Eric scooted over to her and wrapped his arms around her. “This isn’t the same. Eddy’s sick but he’s not going to die. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

      “You don’t,” she said, willing herself to be numb. She couldn’t take any more pain. Please, she thought, please don’t let this be the worst day of my life. “No one does.”

      “Sofia.” His tone was more commanding now and, when he cupped her cheek in the palm of his hand, she had no choice but to look him in the eye. Even in the dark car, she could see a fierceness to him that she hadn’t seen before. “This isn’t your fault.”

      Of course she knew that. But her eyes watered anyway as she said, “I should have been here, Eric. I should have been with my kids when they were sick instead...”

      Instead of being with you.

      She didn’t say it out loud.

      She didn’t have to.

      Something in Eric’s eyes shifted and he looked like he might cry. Which was ridiculous. Why would he be upset over a sick kid? She was overreacting, of course. Mom guilt was a thing.

      But Eric had no claims to her or her kids. They were friends, yeah—friends with some benefits, at least. She’d pulled him away from a huge business deal, though. She was putting his business at risk. And for what?

      Before she could finish that thought, the car came to a screeching halt. Eric pulled away from her as she looked dumbly out the window. They were in front of the hospital.

      “Let’s go.”

      He helped her out of the car and then held on to her hand as they ran inside. “Which floor?”

      “Third.”

      When the elevator doors closed behind them, Eric turned to her and cupped her face. “Take a deep breath, Sofia,” he said, his voice somewhere between soothing and commanding. Eric stroked her cheeks with his thumb. “In and out. Panic is contagious and we don’t want to upset him, do we?”

      Her lungs—she wasn’t sure they’d worked right in hours. But she forced herself to breathe. It was a struggle, but Eric was right. If she rolled into that room hysterical and sobbing, it would only agitate Eddy. “I’m so sorry about the deal.”

      This was exactly what she’d been afraid of—somehow, she’d ruin the deal and show him why it was a mistake to pretend she fit by his side.

      God, what a mess.

      “Sofia,” he said, laughter in his voice. “How could you think the deal means anything to me when you need me? When Eddy needs me? You and your children are so much more to me than that.”

      Sofia’s breath caught in her throat. In any other circumstances, that would have been a statement so romantic it was practically a declaration. She mentally shook her head, though. He was just trying to make her feel better. Lord knew she needed all the help she could get right now.

      The elevator dinged and they were on the pediatric floor. It took some doing but they found the right room and there was her father, sitting in the chair, looking tired and old. “Sofia,” he said, coming to his feet and pulling her into a hug that threatened to undo her all over again. “Everything is fine. He’s responding well but they’re keeping him sedated so he doesn’t pull out the IV. And there can only be one...”

      She didn’t hear what her father was saying as she collapsed in the chair next to Eddy’s bed. The lump in her throat was huge and she was having trouble breathing again.

      “There’s my serious little man,” Eric said, stepping around her. She saw him pull the blanket up and realized that he was covering the IV port in Eddy’s arm so she wouldn’t have to see it. Then she watched him smooth her baby’s hair away from his tiny little face. Even though he was unconscious, Eddy’s lips twitched into something that looked so much like a smile that it almost broke her heart.

      Eric looked at her and she remembered she was supposed to be breathing. She held Eddy’s little hand in hers and said, “Mommy’s here, baby. Sorry it took so long, but I’m here now and you are doing such a good job.”

      She was aware of Eric squeezing her shoulder, aware that her father was saying something to her. She nodded, even though she didn’t catch what he’d said. The room got quiet, except for the beeping of the machines and the roaring sound of her guilt.

      Time lost all meaning as she watched his little chest rise and fall. Her son wore nothing but a diaper and he looked so small. So helpless.

      She should have been here for him, not in Eric’s bed. She’d let her baby down and for what? If something happened to Eddy, she didn’t know how she’d ever forgive herself.

      “Good morning,” a deep male voice rumbled from the doorway. “Ms. Bingham, correct?”

      Sofia startled and hurriedly wiped tears away from her face. When she looked at the doctor, she startled again. “Wyatt? Robert Wyatt?”

      Because it sure as hell looked like the boy who’d tried to cop a feel twenty years ago—except all grown up. The man before her was tall and broad, with dashing dark hair and bright blue eyes.

      And a white lab coat with a stethoscope hanging out of his pocket.

      What was going on?

      “Dr. Wyatt, actually. Do I know you?” he said, staring at her. “Wait...”

      She scrubbed at her face. How could this day get any stranger? The last person she wanted to see was Robert Wyatt—especially when she was a mess. “I’m sorry. I’m Sofia. I was a friend of Eric’s, back when we were kids.”

      His eyes bulged in his head. “You’re the maid’s daughter, right?”

      Embarrassment flashed down the back of her neck. Even after all this time, she was still the maid’s daughter. This weekend it’d been fun to pretend she could live in Eric’s world, but it was just that—pretend. Eric might not realize the truth but everyone else? All the other people who fit naturally into his world?

      She’d always be just the maid’s daughter. She’d be a liability to him.

      She eyed Wyatt, wondering if she should kick him again. But Wyatt beat her to the punch. “I owe you an apology, then.”

      She was so surprised at that statement that all she could do was blink. “What?”

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