The Secret Heir

“Everyone makes mistakes.”

“Not this time. The whole staff agrees with him.”

“Still, how do we know that surgery is the best option at this time? Maybe we should—”

She reached out to lay a hand on his arm, feeling the tension that seemed to vibrate through him. “I understand your panic. Don’t you think I’m feeling the same way? But the longer we put this off, the more risk there is to Tyler.”

“Just listen, okay? I was talking to Chandra at work today and she told me about this doctor in Seattle—”

“We already have a doctor I trust and respect,” Laurel cut in, pulling her hand back into her lap. “I’m not interested in hearing about some doctor in Seattle.”

Jackson sighed gustily. “Look, she was just trying to be helpful.”

“Well, it isn’t helpful.” Nor did she appreciate the fact that he had left the hospital today and spent the time he was gone listening to medical advice from his boss’s attractive and predatory secretary.

Laurel had known for some time that the brunette and buxom Chandra had her eye on Jackson, and while she didn’t think there was anything going on between the two of them, she resented knowing he had been talking about Tyler with the other woman. Of course, she had talked to several of her co-workers today, too, but that was different, she assured herself. None of her associates was trying to seduce her away from her spouse.

It wasn’t that she was jealous, she told herself. It was just that she hated being talked about behind her back. Having her parental decisions questioned and examined played on her deepest insecurities.

Jackson rose to his feet, irritation mirrored in his movements. “We were just talking. Something you and I don’t seem to do much of these days,” he added in a mutter.

“And when would we talk?” she retorted. “Since you’re at work more than you’re home, Chandra and your crews are the only ones who have a chance to talk with you.”

His nostrils flared. “Surely we aren’t going to have this argument again now.”

She pushed both hands through her limp hair. “You’re right,” she said wearily. “This is absolutely not the time to argue. About anything. We’ve said that before, but I seem to keep doing it. I’m sorry.”

“You’re worried,” he said, his manner stiff enough to let her know he was still annoyed. “I understand that, but there’s no need to take it out on me.”

“I’ve already acknowledged that,” she replied, the words clipped.

He started to say something else, but the door opening interrupted him. A young aide slipped into the room, carrying a clipboard. She nodded politely when she saw them at the side of the room.

“Just making my rounds,” she said in the hushed voice the staff tended to use during the night shift. “You two better get some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to start awfully early. Is there anything I can do to make either of you more comfortable?”

“No, thank you, Tara.” Laurel made an effort to smile at the young woman. “We’re fine. Just worried about tomorrow.”

“That’s understandable. But Dr. Rutledge is the best. He saved my sister’s baby who was born with a defective heart two years ago.”

“That’s encouraging to hear,” Jackson replied. “Your sister’s child recovered completely?”

“Oh, yeah. He’s a little pistol now. Right in the middle of the terrible twos.” Pausing by the bed, Tara smiled down at Tyler. “Your little boy is precious. All the staff have commented about how sweet and well behaved he is. I know you’re both very proud of him.”

Laurel and Jackson shared a glance then, reminded of their purpose for being in that place at that time. For Laurel, at least, their argument seemed suddenly trivial and inappropriate. Nothing else really mattered now except getting Tyler well.

Tara moved on to the next room, leaving a taut silence behind her. And then Jackson rested a hand on Laurel’s shoulder. “We do have a great kid.”

“He looks so much like you,” she murmured, looking at the little face on the pillow.

“He has your nose.”

“Tilt at the end and all.”

Jackson ran a fingertip lightly down the bridge of her nose. “I’ve always liked that little tilt. On both of you.”

The tiny shiver that ran through her was entirely involuntary. Achingly familiar. Whatever their differences, she had always responded quite strongly to Jackson’s touch.