Page 12 of Mafia Doctor's Secret Baby

I gave the two of them a quick hug before I headed for the door, and as soon as my feet hit the sidewalk, I knew there was only one place I wanted to go.

To see him.

He’s all I’ve been able to think about these last few weeks—at least, in the few moments I get a break from the sleeplessness and feeds and rushing around trying to take care of Polly. It’s been such a rush, fitting into this new routine, and nothing I did before I gave birth could have prepared me for how all-consuming it is. I prepped for months, cooking food, filling the freezer, building the nursery, all of it—and yet I still feel as though I can barely get my head above water to catch a breath. The nurse, Gina, assured me that it would get better in a few months when I came in for Polly’s checkup, but I don’t know if I’m going to last that long.

Especially not when I know her father is just a few blocks away from my apartment.

I haven’t been able to get him out of my head. I keep waiting to hear something from him, to step into an appointment and find him there waiting for me, but it hasn’t happened. Which is strange to me, because—well, why would he have made such a big deal about the fact that he was the father, if he doesn’t want anything to do with her? Was it just a matter of forcing my hand, making it so I had no choice but to confess? Or has he just changed his mind about the thought of going through with having a kid…

God, I don’t have any idea, but I know I need to find out.

Which is how I found myself wandering up to the hospital, my heart thudding in my chest. I need to know more about him. I’m telling myself that it’s just practical, really—I want to know if he has any medical issues I should know about with regards to my daughter, if there’s anything he’s needs to tell me to make sure I’m all caught up on everything that’s going on.

But truthfully, this is for me. I want to see him again because I know Ineedto. I need to know exactly what he thinks of all of this, where he stands, what he thinks of me, what he thinks of Polly, what he thinks of all of this.

I haven’t told Cara yet, of course, but I can practically hear her voice in my head, telling me to do something about it—He’s a doctor, you should lock that down while you still can!Which seems like a crazy thought to me, even now. The way he treated me when we were together that night, it’s obvious that he’s not used to settling down. When it comes to women, I get the feeling he gets everything he wants—and if he wanted a wife and kids, he would have them already.

I muster up all my courage, and lift my hand to knock on the door—but before I can, it opens before me, and there he is.

My eyes widen as they lock onto his once more. It’s almost too much, standing this close to him, as though his eyes might burn right through me on the spot.

“Uh, I?—”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he growls, taking my arm and pulling me inside. “Quick, before anyone sees you…”

“You don’t want anyone to see me here?” I shoot back, tugging my wrist from his grasp. It’s not that he’s being too rough, no—it’s that his touch sends a shock of desire through my body, and I know I need to keep that shit on lockdown.

“What are you doing here?” he asks again as he pushes the door shut and rounds on me. He’s wearing a light-blue shirt and a pair of slacks, and I can’t help but remember the way he looked that night—behind the mask, hiding his identity. Maybe I would have been better off just keeping him that way…

“Is something going on with her?” he demands, and there’s a note of concern to his voice—he’s talking about Polly, of course.

I shake my head, touched that he cares enough to ask. “No, no, she’s fine,” I assure him. “I just, I—I needed to see you…”

“Why?”

He stares back at me, daring me to come up with a good answer. I flick my tongue over my lips. I don’t know how to put this into words. I feel as though I’m going to blurt out the wrong thing at any moment, and it’s taking everything I have to keep myself together in his presence.

“Because I need to talk to you. About…about everything that’s happened.”

His face darkens again, and he leans back on his desk. “What’s there to talk about?”

I almost laugh at how ridiculous his question is—I don’t know how he can brush it off so flippantly, as though it’s nothing.

“Are you kidding?” I retort. “We have a daughter together, in case you didn’t notice. And I have no idea if you want to be part of her life or not, but I deserve a?—”

He straightens up and takes a step toward me, not breaking my gaze for a moment. My heart skips a beat in my chest—there’s something about the way he’s looking at me that seems to plunge right through me, piercing my heart on the spot.

“You deserve what?” he asks. “You deserve an explanation? Because I can give you one. We fucked, you got pregnant, you had a child. And you had no intention of telling me about her, so I don’t see why you get to act this way now.”

I fall silent for a moment, my breath catching in my lungs. There’s almost…a note of hurt to his voice. I’m not certain if I’m imagining it, but the way he’s looking at me, I can’t say for sure.

“Because I had no idea who you were,” I argue back. “If I had known who you were, I would have?—”

“When I asked you, you told me no,” he tells me. “You told me I wasn’t her father. Given the chance, you still lied.”

His words are harsh, but they’re not inaccurate.

“I was panicked!” I protest. “It’s not like you gave me much of a chance to make sense of it all. You were just a stranger, and then…”

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