The Wrong Mr. Darcy - Evelyn Lozada Page 0,64

to think about her. She was otherworldly, beautiful. She’d probably saved him from decapitation. She seemed sharp as hell. But she was so damn contrary. And there was no way to forget it was her dad who almost ruined the professional world of sports.

O’Donnell had been right—he should probably stay away.

He’d forgotten about his boss. With any luck, the old man had forgotten about him.

A doctor came into the waiting room the same time Derek did, calling out, “Family of Naomi Austen? Anyone here with Naomi Austen?” When no one replied, Derek guessed her family wasn’t there yet and so raised his hand. But where was Hara? After a quick scan of the room, he spotted her sleeping shape in a row of chairs by the wall.

Hovering over Hara, he paused for a second, her gorgeous face peaceful, open in her deep sleep, as she lay stretched out across chairs, heat rising through her wet clothes. “Hara?” he whispered.

“Hmmm?” she said, not awake, not moving, except a flutter of her long, sinewy fingers curled under her cheek.

Oh my God, you’re adorable, he almost said out loud. Biting his lip, instead he said, “Hara, the doctor is here. He wants to talk about Naomi.”

* * *

Hara stared at her fingernails, not sure what to do.

Next to her, Derek was also quiet, his long legs stretched out in front of him.

The doctor had explained that Naomi was conscious and seemed to be mentally fine, but her lungs were filled with fluid. They had her on IV antibiotics and other medications, including meds that made her sleep. They didn’t want her to have visitors until the next day. Thankfully, Naomi’s father had arrived and he’d been taken back to her room, so she wasn’t alone.

The biggest threat was to the baby. They wanted to monitor Naomi, make sure she was stable enough to keep the fetus. It was far too early to hear a heartbeat or see anything with an ultrasound, but she wasn’t bleeding, so that was a good sign.

“She’s young and strong, so hopefully she’ll be okay,” the doctor had said. “But this kind of trauma to the mother can bring on miscarriages, especially when the fetus is so new.” On that note, he’d left.

Yikes. Don’t sugarcoat it.

“Hara?” Derek’s voice was quiet.

“Yes?” She didn’t look up. Everything was fuzzy anyway, beyond a five-foot border, thanks to her missing glasses.

“Your clothes are wet and you’re shivering. Why don’t you come home with me? I have a guest room with its own bathroom. You can take a bath, get warmed up. I’m only about fifteen minutes from here, but nowhere near any flooding.”

Hara put her fingertips to her temples and rubbed. Did a professional basketball player just invite her back to his house? She felt like she was Dorothy, fresh off the tornado in Oz. “I—I don’t know.”

“I can take you back to the O’Donnells’ place.”

“No!”

His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Ohhhkay.”

“I don’t trust them.”

His eyebrows came down and knit together. “That is the second time today I’ve heard that about Connor.”

Hara shrugged. “I’m not surprised. He’s not a good guy.”

“Well, we can get into that later. For now, you need a place to stay and I have an empty room. You’re safe, I promise.”

Hara wanted to joke about that, something about how Naomi would beg to differ, but insulting him wasn’t in her best interest. He didn’t seem to have much of a sense of humor, but he did have a house with a roof and a bed. “Here you are again, going out of your way for me.” She sighed. “I know it seems like I’m not appreciative—I am—it’s just that I’m too tired to get into arguments.”

“Lady, you think you’re tired? I played a long, hard game and then immediately jumped into my vehicle and drove through a flood. I’m wiped. I can definitely use ten hours of sleep. And a hot shower.”

“That’s true, you do need a shower.” She smiled, to let him know she was kidding. “Hope you have a lot of hot water because, I have to agree, a bath sounds fantastic and I’ve got fairly limited options.” She squeezed water from the cuffs of her sweatshirt. “Do you think I could also wash these clothes?”

“Of course.” He scratched his forehead, just below the beanie. “I cannot wait to take this disgusting hat off.” Instead, he tugged the stocking cap down tighter over his ears, which Hara knew he was wearing to keep people from recognizing him. When