The Baby Dilemma Read online

  “Tomorrow morning I’ll have Philippe flown in. After I bring him to the chalet, I’ll conveniently disappear and the rest of us will wait things out at Roger’s condo.”

  Tomorrow Kellie would see Philippe.

  Her heart thudded so hard with excitement and anxiety all rolled into one, she feared something was wrong with it.

  Lee moved forward to touch her arm in concern. “Are you all right?”

  She let out a shaky breath. “There’s a strong possibility he won’t let me into his life again. I’m petrified our marriage could really be over.”

  When neither of them refuted that statement, her fear escalated.

  Weary both physically and emotionally, she rested her head against the back of the seat. Her eyelids felt heavy. Before they closed, the last thing she saw was Raoul’s grave countenance.

  Like a revelation it came to her he knew things about Philippe he hadn’t told his wife or Kellie. She didn’t know what exactly, but a frisson of terror attacked her body worse than before.

  CHAPTER THREE

  KELLIE walked Raoul and Lee to the back door of the chalet to see them off.

  “I’ll be praying for you,” Lee whispered, giving Kellie a hug.

  “Thank you. I’m going to need it.”

  Raoul placed his hands on her shoulders. “You have my cell phone number. Call us at anytime.”

  She nodded.

  His eyes looked a darker blue beneath the overcast sky. “Do your magic as only you know how to do.”

  Kellie let out a half sob. “I’m afraid I’ve destroyed that for him. But if loving him desperately counts for anything—”

  “It counts.” He kissed her forehead before throwing an arm around his wife’s waist to walk her to the car. It was one of those little electric ones, the only kind allowed to get around Zermatt.

  She watched until their car disappeared down the slope. Then she ran through the hallway to the front of the rustic chalet where the picture window gave out on the Swiss resort town famous for its skiing and mountaineering.

  Raoul had told her that in good weather she’d be able to view the Matterhorn. Kellie had never been to Zermatt, and had always wanted to see the mountain. But this morning it was shrouded in gray mist.

  Another reason why she wouldn’t allow Philippe to attempt a climb, she’d do anything to prevent him from leaving.

  She propped herself on the couch near the window trying to imagine what she’d say to him when he arrived. When an hour had passed and there was no sign of the car yet, she began to worry that bad weather might have prevented the helicopter from landing.

  However if that were true, Raoul would have phoned to let her know there’d been a delay.

  Her gaze wandered to the end of the room where a circular staircase wound its way to the loft. Philippe had spent many nights up there before a climb, or a day of skiing.

  She’d been put in the guest bedroom on the main floor. Though she knew it was impossible, there was still this tiny part of her that fantasized about a reconciliation. After a month’s deprivation, she was dying with love for him. Whenever she thought about them sleeping together, she could hardly breathe.

  Too nervous to sit still, she walked to the bathroom down the hall and ran the brush through her hair one more time. She’d put on tan wool pants and a cream-colored cable-knit sweater he hadn’t seen her in before. They were colors he particularly liked on her.

  But as she looked at herself in the mirror, she remembered what Lee had said.

  Philippe has changed. He wants the divorce now.

  A sharp pain pierced her heart to realize he wouldn’t care what she was wearing because he wasn’t going to look at her the same way again.

  Almost immobilized by the fears plaguing her, she hurried from the bathroom to the kitchen at the rear of the chalet. From the window over the sink she’d be able to see Philippe arrive.

  Earlier she’d prepared fruit and ham and cheese croissants for him. The coffee was hot. She knew he’d lost weight during the last month, but was determined to get him to eat.

  She wanted to do everything for him.

  She wanted to be all things to him.

  She wanted to be his wife again.

  It had been so long…

  Just when she decided something had gone wrong and Philippe wouldn’t be coming, she heard the sound of a car.

  With her heart pounding out of control, she moved to the side of the sink where she could still see out the window without being observed in return.

  Pretty soon she saw it pull around the slope and stop about thirty feet from the back door. The plan was for Raoul to let Philippe out and tell him to go inside the unlocked door while Raoul did a quick errand he’d remembered at the last minute.

  So far it seemed to be working. Raoul kept the car running, but by this time her eyes were riveted on the man climbing out of the passenger seat.

  If she hadn’t known it was Philippe, she wouldn’t have recognized him. His black hair was overly long. In the last month he’d grown a moustache and beard.

  He’d always been heartbreakingly handsome to her. He still was, but in an entirely different way. The change in him fascinated and terrified her all at the same time. She felt distanced from him by his outward appearance; it was symbolic of the trauma he’d experienced in the last month.

  Six feet two inches of powerful muscle beneath his climbing clothes, the noticeable weight loss gave him a lean, hungry look. Kellie was so mesmerized by the transformation, she hardly noticed the cane he used to help keep the weight off his left leg.

  His limp appeared almost nonexistent. Once again she found herself thanking providence that he hadn’t sustained worse injuries in the accident.

  Raoul waved to him, then took off. Philippe gave a slight nod before walking the rest of the way to the chalet.

  As she heard the back door open and close, perspiration broke out on her brow. Her body went hot, then cold.

  She detected the slight tap of his cane as he walked down the hall past the kitchen. Then suddenly, everything went quiet.

  He’d seen her.

  On unsteady legs, Kellie crossed the distance to the doorway, coming face to face with a man who bore a superficial resemblance to the husband she adored. But this close to him, those dark slits glittering with accusation couldn’t be his eyes.

  Beneath his facial hair, the features she loved so well looked chiseled in stone. Combined with his forbidding stance, she sought the doorjamb for support.

  “You should have come to the apartment instead of using Raoul to get to me,” he said in a wintry voice she didn’t recognize. “I would have signed those divorce papers before showing you the door.”

  Dear God.

  “As it is, you’ll have to go back where you came from and wait five more days for your long-sought freedom.”

  “Philippe—”

  “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised you would stoop so low as to presume on my relationship with the prince in order to achieve your own ends. To think there was a time when I thought I knew you…”

  His hostility went beyond anything she could have imagined. How in heaven would she be able to break through the formidable barrier he’d erected against her?

  “Please, sweetheart—we have to talk.”

  “Don’t.” His quiet rage was more terrifying than if he’d shoved her body against the wall. “I’ll give you ten minutes to leave the chalet. That’s nine minutes and thirty seconds more than you gave me in the E.R.”

  Every word cut her like a knife before he jerked away from her. What happened next was like something out of a ghastly nightmare.

  Tossing his cane aside, he started up the back staircase two steps at a time, the way he would have done before the accident.

  “No!” she screamed, chasing after him, but he was too fast for her. As he reached the top, she saw him trip. He fell against the floor groaning in agony.

  “Darling!” She flew the rest of t
he distance and knelt at his side where he was half-sitting half-lying there holding his bad leg. As much as she wanted to touch him, comfort him, she didn’t dare. “Don’t move. I’ll call for help.”

  Already she could see perspiration beading his hair-line. Pain had drawn the color from his complexion.

  He flashed her a withering glance. “I told you to get out!”

  No way.

  “This isn’t your house, Philippe. I have as much right to be here as you do. Right now you need medical help.”

  Without waiting to take anymore of his cruel rejection, she hurried back down the stairs to her room. Raoul had left his cell phone number on the end table next to the guest phone.

  She grabbed the receiver and punched the digits. To her relief he responded on the second ring.

  “Raoul— I’m so glad you answered!”

  “Kellie? I haven’t even reached Roger’s yet. What’s wrong? You sound out of breath.” There was alarm in his voice.

  “Philippe has hurt his leg.” In the next few seconds she related what had happened.

  “Your magic worked even faster than I thought it would. There’ll be no climbing for him in the foreseeable future, thank God. I’ll bring the doctor.”

  “All right. Please hurry. He’s in pain.”

  “That’s good. It means he’s feeling again,” Raoul murmured before clicking off.

  Pondering that comment, Kellie hurried into the kitchen to fashion a makeshift ice bag.

  As she rummaged around in the drawers for some plastic bags, it dawned on her once again how fortunate they were to be Raoul’s guests. In fact she agreed with their host that this latest accident was a blessing in disguise.

  But when a stream of bitter French invective penetrated to the hall, it didn’t prevent her from shivering all the way to the loft to rejoin her husband.

  By the time she reached him, he’d dragged himself to the nearest bed and had collapsed on top of it. If she hadn’t had the advantage for the moment, his withering regard would have paralyzed her.

  She walked past him to pull a pillow from each of the other three beds. “Here. Let’s get these under your knee.”

  The fact that he let her arrange the pillows to elevate his trousered leg indicated his degree of agony. She followed that action with the ice bag which she placed over his knee.

  Without asking his permission, she unlaced his boot and carefully pulled it off. She repeated the process with his other boot. To be able to take care of him again in any capacity filled her with inexpressible joy.

  It was an automatic gesture to put the back of her hand to his forehead. “You’re hot, darling. Let me help you off with this sweater.”

  Because he hadn’t tried to interfere with her ministrations, she didn’t think he would fight her for taking this liberty, too.

  That’s where she was wrong.

  As she started to ease it from his hips, his right hand seized her wrist in a viselike grip, hurting her. She’d forgotten he had muscles of whipcord strength.

  “You’ve done enough. Do you understand?”

  He shook off her hand as if it were something hateful. She chose to pretend she hadn’t noticed his rough treatment of her.

  “I’ll find you some painkillers.”

  When she eventually emerged from the upstairs bathroom with pills and a glass of water, the doctor had already entered the loft. There was no sign of Raoul.

  The elderly man was bent over Philippe asking him questions while he rolled up his pant leg to survey the damage. When she approached the bed, he lifted his gray head to nod at her.

  “Frau Didier? I’m Dr. Glatz,” he said in heavily accented English.

  “How do you do, Doctor. Thank you for coming so quickly. My husband’s in pain.”

  “When I heard he was still recovering from knee surgery, I realized he needed to be seen immediately. However my examination shows that no new injury has occurred from his fall.

  “What he has done is jar those tender nerve endings that have been healing. A few days of bed rest and he’ll be fine. As long as you help him walk to the bathroom, there should be no problem.”

  “I’m so thankful!” she cried in relief.

  “You’ve done an excellent job of first-aid. Are you a nurse?”

  She shook her head. “No. I just did what I thought would feel good to me.”

  “Your instincts do you proud.” He peered at the pills in her hand. “Go ahead and give him three of those every four hours. I’ll leave something stronger in case the pain intensifies.

  “The best thing is the ice pack. Twenty minutes on, twenty minutes off. If you keep up the rotation throughout the night, he’ll improve that much faster.”

  Thank you, Doctor. You’ve just granted me a stay of execution for another twelve hours. If I could kiss you, I would.

  “Herr Didier?” He patted her husband’s broad shoulder. Philippe lay there staring at her with an almost menacing look coming from his shuttered eyes. “I leave you in the capable hands of your beautiful wife.”

  In an aside he said, “My bag’s in the kitchen. I’ll put the medicine on the counter with my card and see myself out. Call me if there’s any further problem.”

  “I will. Thank you again! Goodbye.”

  “Goodbye.”

  No doubt Raoul was outside waiting to drive him back to his office or clinic, and Philippe knew it.

  Kellie walked over to his side. “You heard the doctor. Take these now.”

  She extended her hand to put them in his mouth. The contact of his lips against her fingers sent an intense wave of longing through her body. She steeled herself not to show how his touch had affected her.

  When she handed him the glass of water, his hand trembled as he drained it. Maybe he’d been affected by their brief physical encounter. Then again his reaction could be attributed to natural weakness now that he’s survived the initial pain.

  He gave her the empty glass without thanking her. Not that she expected it. But in the past her husband had always been the ultimate gentleman. Because of her decision to divorce him, that man no longer existed. Another pain squeezed her heart.

  If she could find a way to get him to listen to her. Really listen while she tried to make him understand that it was because she loved him so much, she’d been willing to give him up.

  “Philippe?” she ventured in a quiet voice.

  “Have the decency to leave me alone.”

  His cold rebuke was devastating to her. She averted her eyes from the sensuous male mouth she yearned to feel on her own. Somehow she had to learn how to stop the bleeding every time one of his daggers found its mark.

  “I’ll take this ice bag downstairs and bring another one back in twenty minutes.”

  When she reached the hall below, she picked up his cane and hung it on one of the pegs next to the back door. In the kitchen she made up half a dozen ice bags which she left in the freezer so they’d be ready.

  Following that, she prepared a tray of food. In case the pills upset his stomach, she added an icy cold bottle of soda to settle it.

  Thankful Philippe had to follow the doctor’s regimen if he wanted a quick recovery, she went back upstairs. This time she found him asleep.

  He’d removed his sweater. It lay on the floor in a heap. The well-defined chest beneath his black T-shirt was still visible, but she was troubled by his weight loss.

  She set the tray on the nightstand and placed a new ice bag over his knee. The cold caused him to stir, then his eyes opened. For a fraction of a second she thought she saw a flicker of something that reminded her of the old Philippe. But it was probably her imagination.

  “It’s lunchtime. I’ve brought you some food in case you’re hungry.”

  “I’m not.”

  Alarmed, she asked, “Are you nauseous?”

  His lips twisted unpleasantly. “I wasn’t…” He left her to surmise what he’d really meant.

  It hurt. It hurt so much she could h
ardly function. But she’d be damned if she’d let it show.

  “In that case the soda should do you some good. I’ve already removed the lid.” She put it on the edge of the table. “Here it is within reach of your hand.”

  Gathering up his sweater, she folded it and put it in one of the empty dresser drawers opposite his bed. “I’ll come back later.” She left the room leading with her chin.

  The next time she looked in on him to remove the bag, she noticed with satisfaction he’d drunk most of the soda and had eaten part of a croissant.

  When she went downstairs again she discovered Raoul waiting for her with a smile on his face. He’d brought in Philippe’s backpack, which contained items he’d need.

  “The guys are staying at Roger’s until tomorrow,” he whispered. “Lee and I will sleep at the Alex hotel. Call me if you need help.”

  “I probably will because I don’t know what I’m doing from one moment to the next.”

  He eyed the partially eaten croissant on the tray she’d brought down with her. “From my vantage point it looks like huge strides have already been made.”

  “You wouldn’t say that if you could hear the way he speaks to me. Or doesn’t,” she lamented in a tremulous whisper.

  “I have every confidence in you, Kellie.”

  “I wish I did. He believes I deliberately used you to get to him. It’s not far from the truth,” she half sobbed. “H-he despises me for it.”

  “One day I’ll let him know I sent Lee on a mission. For the time being it’s better to let him think what he wants. He needs that anger to cling to.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your husband’s a proud man who’s been left alone long enough to convince himself you never loved him.”

  Though it pained her to admit her actions had brought about this horrendous situation, she realized he’d spoken the truth. “Somehow I’ll have to prove my love all over again.”

  “The guys have their bets placed on you. As far as Lee and I are concerned, I think you know how we feel.”

  She gave him a hug with her free arm. “I do. Thank you for everything.”

  “Good luck.”