Author: Bella Andre


He put the phone down and stood. “I’ll escort you up personally, Jo.”


She worked to keep her cool as they rode up, then higher still, in the elevator. And when he said, “Congratulations,” she was the one lifting her head in surprise this time.


Her hands automatically went to her stomach. She was so upset with Graham over the stroller—and the fact that he’d gotten into her apartment—that she’d started to feel a little sick. Well, not sick exactly, but the twinges she’d been having in her back had definitely gotten worse.


It was yet another reason she needed to make him back off. She didn’t want anything to distract her from the baby.


And Graham was definitely a distraction.


“Thank you,” she said, and then it was time to step off the elevator and onto the plushest, cleanest carpet she’d ever seen. Even in a showroom, she mused, it couldn’t look so brand new.


Struck with the irrepressible urge to kick off her shoes and bury her toes in the soft fibers, she was stunned to see shiny black shoes come to stand right in front of her scuffed silver ballet flats.


“Jo.”


Every time he said her name, it sent a shiver through her. Today, the lie she told herself was that it was fury that caused the trembling.


She didn’t care who heard her say, “I asked you to stop giving me things.”


She expected him to herd her into his office, to close the door and make sure what was said between them stayed private.


He didn’t move an inch. “You need them.”


She wanted to yell at him. But she found herself lowering her voice as she hissed, “You broke into my apartment.”


“The stroller and seat would have been stolen if they’d been left outside. And I didn’t want you pushing them all the way home from work.”


The fact that he was right about both of those things did little to mitigate her fury.


“Look,” she began in as patient a voice as she could muster, “I know you still feel bad—”


A sharp pain to her midsection turned her words into a cry.


For the first time since that first day on the sidewalk in Union Square, they touched each other, her hand flying out to his arm to brace herself against the brutal pain.


Jo’s eyes were closed too tightly for her to see the panic fly across Graham’s face.


“Tell Ellis to be outside with the car in sixty seconds,” he told one of his assistants without ever looking away from Jo. To the other he said, “Call California Pacific Medical Center and tell the doctor to have the birthing room ready for us in fifteen minutes.”


The pain finally having broken, Jo finally realized his hand was on the small of her back as he moved them into the elevator.


“What are you doing?”


“Taking you to have your daughter.”


She opened her mouth to argue, to tell him she could take care of herself, when another pain hit her, even worse this time.


Graham’s voice was low, soothing, and incredibly gentle. “Breathe, Jo. In first, slowly.” She managed to suck in a breath, though it felt as though her small frame was being torn in two. “Good. Now let it out, just as slow.” She did as he directed, and he praised her again. “You’re doing great.”


When the elevator opened on the ground floor, she was actually glad for his strong arms around her.


“Not too much farther until you can lie down in the backseat of my town car.”


Her eyes widened with alarm at the idea of going anywhere with him, but she was still weak from the last contraction and had a feeling the next one was going to be even worse.


He slipped her hands into his as he helped her gently onto the seat and barely flinched as she rode out yet another wave of pain by gripping his hand so hard his fingers cracked.


His encouraging murmurs helped her until she collapsed back against the soft leather, just lucid enough to ask, “How do you know just what to say?”


His strong, hard mouth trembled as he said, “My sister.” Just as quickly as the grief had come, it went.


She wanted to ask him more, but before she could push the question from her lips, a new shock of pain ripped through her. While her wail reverberated off the walls of the town car, Graham tugged her closer and held her tightly against him as if he could take her pain into himself instead.


Sweat soaked through her clothes as he gritted out a harsh command to his driver. “Faster. We need to get to the hospital faster.”


“Yes, sir.”


When they finally arrived at the old stone building, he lifted her out of the backseat as if she weighed nothing and pushed carefully in through the front hospital doors. He didn’t stop at the front desk, just walked through with her to the room that he’d insisted be held ready.


Two nurses and an obstetrician entered the private birthing room and began to take blood pressure and other vitals, while the doctor asked Jo in a gentle, very calm voice if she could examine her to see how far along she was.


Throughout it all, Graham held her hand.


And refused to let it go.


As they shot the hospital scene several more times from different angles, all Valentina could do was stare at Smith’s and Tatiana’s hands linked together. But it was her mother’s and father’s hands that she was seeing, both of them young, and so hopeful for their future with the family they had made together.


Her throat felt tight as Tatiana and Smith finally broke out of character many hours later and the lights dimmed. Her sister shook out her limbs and laughed as she released the tension, while Smith immediately walked off the set and toward wardrobe. After a while, Valentina finally rose from her seat and took in a deep breath of air to try to clear the tension from her body, too.


When she opened her eyes again, Smith was standing in front of her, already back in his street clothes.


“Ready to head to the Rock?”


Chapter Ten


Smith looked as fresh as if he hadn’t been giving his all to the camera for the past eight hours, while Valentina felt like a limp noodle simply from the vicarious experience of watching all that emotion. She’d forgotten all about Alcatraz during filming, but with a rush the nerves—and reservations about being alone with Smith for so many hours—came back.


“I should check in with Tatiana first.”


But when she turned to look for her sister, she was laughing with one of the crew, Jayden from effects. Clearly, she was just fine, and she already knew Valentina and Smith were heading to Alcatraz. As Tatiana was off to Los Angeles for an event later that evening, Valentina simply gave her sister a quick kiss on the cheek and said she’d see her in the morning after she got back from the airport.


Which meant there weren’t any good reasons left to draw out their departure.


“Need anything from your office?”


“Just my jacket.” She’d worn long pants and a sweater to the set today knowing they were going to be out on a boat and an island in the middle of the Bay tonight.


They walked in silence to pick up her coat, and fortunately everyone was so used to seeing the two of them meeting for one reason or another, that no one thought it the least bit strange that they were heading off together in Smith’s car. He didn’t put his hand on her back as they walked, didn’t stand too close, and she appreciated his discretion.


After all, this wasn’t a date. He was simply acting as a friendly tour guide in his native San Francisco for a few hours. The fact that he was a ginormous movie star and could easily have hired a whole staff of people to show her around town was irrelevant. Of course, she could only imagine how happy the tour operators had been to hear from Smith Sullivan. They probably couldn’t give him the two tickets fast enough.


It wasn’t until she slid into the passenger seat of his Jaguar that she realized they’d never been in such a small space together before. The roar of the engine had her heart racing. Or, maybe it was the way he turned and gave her a sexy grin right before he drove out of the lot and onto the busy San Francisco streets.


With every mile he covered, the memory of the kiss they’d shared loomed bigger and bigger, to the point where her lips actually started tingling as if it had been a minute rather than a day since she’d pressed her mouth to his.


“Valentina.” Her name on his lips had heat rushing through her as she slowly turned her gaze to him. “Look at that moon.”


She’d been staring down at her clenched hands so hard that she was surprised when she looked out the window and realized a full moon was rising over the water, the blue bay turning a deep purple.


“It’s beautiful.”


So beautiful that it suddenly didn’t make any sense to be nervous. She’d never forgive herself if she forgot to soak up the wonder of the experience just because she was so worried about what Smith wanted from her.


He’d promised he wouldn’t kiss her until she asked, hadn’t he? And she wouldn’t ask him, so that meant they could just be friends.


At least she hoped they could as she turned back to him and said, “You were great today.”


He kept his eyes on the road as he smiled at her compliment. “Thanks, it felt good. Of course, your sister makes it easy.”


“You should have seen her when she was ten. She’d be doing a commercial with a bunch of pros, and by the end, pretty much everyone knew she was the reason they’d shone so brightly.”


He pulled into a gated parking lot by the water and when she stepped out of the car, the wind blew hard enough that she needed to put on her coat.


“Let me,” he said as he slipped it over her shoulders.


Warmth moved through her, and not just because of the wool. He hadn’t copped a feel, hadn’t touched anything but her coat, but even from where he’d been standing behind her, heat had radiated from him.


What, she found herself wondering, would happen if she let herself lean into his warmth, his strength, just for a few moments?


It was harder to shake the crazy question out of her head than it should have been. Grateful for the cold rush of air that blew past—on the hopes that it could blow the forbidden desire away, too—she reached into her pockets for her gloves, but they were empty.


Smith finished putting on his jacket just as she shivered. He was frowning as he said, “Are you warm enough?”


“It’s just my hands. I forgot my gloves.”


He slid his fingers through hers. “Does this help?”


She knew she should pull her hands away. But, oh, he was so warm. And her hands always got so cold.


She looked down at their linked hands, but when she looked back up, the “Yes” she’d been about to say got lost in the need in his eyes. The same need she knew had to be mirrored in her own. All she could manage was a nod.


Her heart momentarily stopped beating as his gaze dropped to her mouth. Her memories of the sweet pressure of his lips on hers made her want it again so badly that, in that moment, she couldn’t bring herself to care that he was about to break his promise to her. Only, instead of kissing her, he simply lifted her hands to his lips.


He didn’t press a kiss to either of them, just held them against his mouth for a long moment before he said, “Why don’t we go see what the moon looks like from the boat?”


* * *


Valentina stared at the yacht in confusion. “I thought you had to take a ferry to get to Alcatraz.”


“Usually you do,” he said, “but they made a special exception for you.”


“Not for me,” she said with a shake of her head. “For you.” Suddenly, she turned to him with a frown. “We aren’t going as part of the regular group tour, are we?”


The wind blew a lock of her hair into her mouth and he reached out to slide it away, letting his fingers linger on her cheek for a moment.


“No, we’re not.”


His captain for the evening came out on the dock to greet them, and when he introduced Billy to Valentina, Smith didn’t miss the approval in the other man’s eyes. He helped Valentina on board and even though her eyes widened a little at the luxurious interior, she didn’t make a fuss about it. Probably because she simply didn’t give a damn about his money or possessions. In any case, she and Tatiana had likely been to Hollywood events on even bigger boats than this.