Eclipse of the Heart - By Carly Carson Page 0,80

the seagulls crying.

She still hadn't been to the beach.

"I heard you settled in the guest house."

"I like it," she said. "It's quiet and peaceful."

"Do you have everything you need?"

"Yes, thank you." She was gripping the phone as if…as if she didn't want him to end the conversation. Which was a big mistake. She'd have to end it herself.

"Thanks for calling," she said. "I'm all set here. There's no need for you to check in again."

"I'd like to come and see you this weekend," Logan said firmly. "It's time for us to move on."

"There is no 'us'."

"Don't be foolish, Amanda." His voice was controlled, but she heard a thread of irritation. "We're having a child together. That will tie us together for at least eighteen years. Wouldn't it be better to make them pleasant years?"

What did that mean? Pleasant years? Amanda shook her head. She shouldn't even think about it. There wasn't any point to raising false hopes in her clueless heart.

"Is this where you threaten me again with your lawyer?" she asked.

"If that's what it takes," he snapped.

"Takes to do what?" An imp of curiosity bit her. He sounded serious about—something. Probably the custody issue, and she didn't want to argue about that again. "Never mind." As always, she had to beat him to the punch to forestall her own crazy hopefulness. "I have to go. The doctor is buzzing me."

She clicked off the phone, as sadness swept over her. She was getting too good at lying.

Logan stared at his silent cell, cursing under his breath. How had they reached such an impasse? The only sensible thing for them to do was to get married, but he would be damned if he'd propose to her over the phone. He'd thought that once he got her settled in a worry-free environment, she'd calm down. Okay, he understood that she didn't want him to run her life, but he had resources that she didn't have. Why couldn't she simply accept his help? He had a responsibility to her now that he'd gotten her pregnant, and he also had rights with respect to the child. At least he hoped he did.

Should he stage a surprise visit? He didn't want to upset her, or do anything that might jeopardize her health or that of the baby. Hell, what did he know about pregnancy, let alone bed rest?

There was only one way to find out exactly what action he could take. And he was itching for action.

Unfortunately, it took him the better part of a week to wear down Rosie to the point that she revealed the name of Amanda's doctor.

"I can't be bought," she said, when he walked in the day after she finally broke.

He rapped his fist on her desk in greeting. "I did it because you held out for almost five days, not because you gave me the doctor's name." He'd sent a thousand dollar check to the charity for which she'd sponsored the toy drive.

"I wouldn't have done it if I didn't think it was the best thing for Amanda," she said darkly. "Just so you know."

"Credit me with some sense." He smiled at her. "I won't rat you out, either."

The visit to the doctor was less successful.

Logan sat in the waiting room, feeling like a penguin in the desert. There was no reason on earth for a single man to be visiting an ob/gyn alone. The waiting room had been designed to be soothing, done up in tan and blue. But most of the waiting patients were in various obvious stages of pregnancy, which, in itself was enough to make a man uneasy.

He found he couldn't stop wondering about Amanda. Was she showing? How was she feeling? Worst of all, he wondered about the status of her pregnancy. Was the bed rest helping? Was she still in danger of losing the baby?

Questions haunted him. As much as he tried to ignore them, he worried incessantly about both her and the child.

A child he'd never dreamed of having. But now that the possibility had lodged in his brain, he couldn't dislodge it.

When he was ushered into the office, he knew his errand wouldn't prosper. The doctor wore heavy, black spectacles, a crisp white jacket, and raised eyebrows. Her severity was somewhat lessened by her pleasant, contralto voice.

"You have a patient who is pregnant with my—my child," he began. He did not enjoy being in the position of supplicant and had arranged his life to avoid this exact thing. But life had

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