Rory tried calling Samira, but her phone rang out, so he left a message. He didn’t want to head home and sit by the phone waiting for a call from Chris like some sad sack, so on impulse he drove toward South Wharf.
He could thank Pia in person and give her a rundown of how the audition went. Crazy, because she probably had patients booked and he could convey his gratitude just as easily on the phone. But he really wanted to see Samira, and even if he had to loiter in the waiting room, he’d do it.
He reached the center in ten minutes and had parked when the phone rang. His heart leaped in anticipation, and he didn’t know who he wanted to be on the other end more, Chris or Samira.
One glance at the screen had his hand shaking as he hit the “answer” button.
“Chris. How are you?”
“I’m bloody fantastic, considering I get a cut of your earnings as the host for Renegades.”
Shock rendered him speechless for a moment. “I got the gig?”
“You sure did, mate. You blew them away at the audition, and they’re rapt to have you on board.”
“Fuck,” he murmured, joy expanding in his chest until he could barely breathe. “I can’t believe it.”
Chris chuckled. “I knew you could do it. Anyway, go celebrate, and I’ll be in touch once I have more information.”
“Thanks, Chris, for everything.”
“You’re the one who did this, mate. I just made a few calls to set everything up. Well done.”
When Chris hung up, Rory stared at the phone in his hand, wondering if he’d conjured up the call out of wishful thinking.
He got the job.
He could give Amelia the money she needed to kick-start the speech therapy program.
He could help those kids.
He felt freaking invincible.
Chris had been right about one thing. He had to celebrate. He hoped he could convince Samira to skive off work, because they had some serious partying to do, one-on-one.
He had no recollection of the five-minute walk to the center— because he’d probably floated there—and as he entered, he strode toward Samira’s office, relieved to spot her door open and the woman he wanted to see tidying exercise equipment.
“Samira,” he called out, unable to keep the grin off his face as he entered her office.
She looked a little pale, but he saw the exact moment she figured out why he was grinning like an idiot who’d just won the lottery.
“You nailed the audition?”
He nodded. “I got the job. You’re looking at the host of Australia’s newest up-and-coming reality show.”
“That’s great.” She enveloped him in a hug, squeezing so tight he laughed.
“Want to help me celebrate?”
She hesitated, as something furtive shifted in her gaze. “What did you have in mind?”
“What do you think?”
He rested his hand on her waist, before sliding it around to her gorgeous ass in a slow caress.
Her eyes widened, and her lips curved into a coy smile. “Hmm . . . I’ve got a lot of patient files to complete—”
“I want you, now,” he murmured, giving her ass a gentle squeeze. “I’m so damn happy I could burst, and I want to share that with you.”
“Okay,” she said, pressing her hand to his cheek. “Give me five minutes.”
“Make it one.” He swooped in to claim her mouth in a scorching kiss that had him hard and craving her more than ever.
He’d made the right decision in coming here.
A sizzling celebration for two would make this day even more memorable.
Samira had been so shocked to see Rory not long after learning the momentous news of her pregnancy that she couldn’t think up an excuse fast enough to fob him off. Not that she wanted to, but she needed time to absorb the news that still left her reeling twenty minutes later and had envisaged slinking off to her apartment to sit on the sofa and dwell.
She couldn’t tell him, not yet. Maybe sneaking off for some afternoon delight would be just what she needed to take her mind off it and the million questions pinging around her brain.
She hadn’t been taking prenatal vitamins. Would that damage her baby?
She’d been drinking alcohol and eating soft cheeses and deli meats. Would that harm her baby?
Would she need to screen for fetal abnormalities sooner rather than later because of her age?
Would her baby be damaged because she’d been so clueless about all of the above?
Interesting, that she was already referring to the baby as “hers” and not “the baby.” Because despite all the questions and the shock and her bone-deep fear, she was ecstatic about this pregnancy.
She’d never imagined having a child. Being a reproductively challenged, single thirty-seven-year-old didn’t inspire her with confidence, and she’d secretly given up on her dream of ever conceiving.
During her marriage, she’d had an inordinate amount of sex, because procreating had been so important to Avi. He’d wanted to create his own people to show the world how damn powerful he was, and when she’d failed, he’d gone elsewhere for his baby making.
So in what crazy world did she have sex with a guy a decade younger than her a handful of times and make a baby?
“You’re distracted,” he said, trailing a finger down her naked torso, from her breasts to her belly button. “Hope I didn’t disappoint.”
“You know exactly how good you are.” She rolled onto her side to face him, the afterglow of amazing sex and two orgasms fading as she looked into his startling blue eyes and wondered if their child would have the same unique color.
“Guys have big egos, and we like to be stroked.”
“We’re still talking about egos, right?”
He chuckled, idly caressing her hip in languorous strokes that made her skin pebble. “I was freaking out about the audition when I saw you earlier today, but even in my nervous funk, all I could think about was how it’s been two weeks since we’ve been together and how badly I wanted to spend some time with you again.”
“Wow, that’s the longest thing you’ve ever said to me.” She rested her hand against his chest, savoring the crisp hair beneath her palm. “But yeah, I kind of missed you too.”
“High praise indeed,” he said, his familiar lopsided smile doing weird things to her insides. Or was that their baby already wreaking havoc? “So why didn’t you call?”
“I’ve been busy.”
It sounded like the lame excuse it was.
“Your mom still trying to marry you off to that Indian dude?”
“Yeah, we actually had lunch today.”
His hand stilled, and a tiny dent appeared between his brows. “The three of you, together?”
“Relax, it’s not like it sounds.” She reached out, her fingertip smoothing away his frown. “Mom’s constantly going on about Manny, so I thought by her seeing there’s no spark between us, she might back off.”
“Is that what happened?”
“No, so I told her about you to make sure she got the message.”
His eyebrows shot up. “You told her about me?”
“Yeah.”
His smile returned, part bashful, part proud. “I guess we really are dating, then.”
“Something like that.”
Would that make it easier for her mom to accept her pregnancy? Doubtful. Being of Indian descent and an unwed mother did not make for a happy baby shower. Kushi would love her grandchild, Samira had no doubt about that, but after their discussion regarding the aunties and how the Indian community had rallied around her after her dad died, would they ostracize Kushi all over again?
Their judgment wouldn’t affect Samira all that much; she wouldn’t be around . . . That was the moment reality set in.
Her baby had a father.
An Aussie father.
Who resided in Australia.
Would Rory be amenable to her taking the child to live halfway across the world and thus cutting down his access to minimal?
“What’s wrong?” His frown had returned, deeper than ever. “Is there something you’re not telling me about this Manny guy? Do you have feelings for him?”
“No, absolutely not.” She shook her head. “We’re friends, that’s it. But I’ve got a lot on my mind, what with Pia leaving me in charge of the center for a few weeks while she takes some time off to be with her husband.”
Another complication in this fraught scenario. Pia loved her like a sister, but how would her cousin feel about her conceiving so easily when she’d been trying for years and it still hadn’t happened?
Samira had been gutted to learn about Avi’s impending fatherhood all those years ago, and she knew deep down his cheating hadn’t devastated her as much as the fact that the other woman was having the baby she craved so much.
She knew Pia loved her, but infertility wore a person down, and hearing Samira’s news would be a sucker punch. Pia was the most logical, methodical person she knew, and for her cousin to resort to alternative therapies like crystals meant she was desperate. Samira needed her support to get through this pregnancy, but it might appear callous, like she was rubbing Pia’s nose in her fertility.
“Is everything okay with her?”
“Yeah, she’s trying to have a baby.”
Crap, why did she blurt that out? Then again, it gave her a chance to study Rory carefully for a reaction. A wrinkle of a nose, a screwed-up face, any sign he didn’t like kids and she could hold off telling him about theirs.
But he looked back at her, his expression thoughtful. “She’s great. I really hope it works out for her.”
Impressed by his genuine caring, she pressed her palm to his cheek again. “You’re a good guy, Rory Radcliffe, and I can’t wait to see you on TV.”
A cheeky glint lit his eyes. “Why wait, when you can see all of me now?”
With that, he whipped off the top sheet, leaving him gloriously naked.
Yeah, that was exactly what she needed.
She could mull the staggering news of her baby and the consequences for everyone later.