Billionaire's Island Bride(46)

“Sure,” Dare said, taking her by the shoulder and leading her over to the reclining chair. “But not today. You need to put your feet up and relax. Remember what the doctor said about the swelling in your ankles.”

“He said I need exercise, not pampering.” But despite her protest she relaxed into the chair and put her feet up, much to his relief.

He could see how much it meant to her to have been able to render assistance. She was obviously a kindhearted soul and he loved her for it.

Dare paused and looked up from where he was kneeling at her feet. Love. Now where had that thought come from? Unbidden, it had popped into his mind, startling him with how easily it had slipped in. Did he love Erin?

If his actions were anything to go by then maybe it was so. Right then he was busy massaging her ankles, helping to stimulate the circulation and prevent swelling. It made him feel…husbandly, if that was a word. But he had to admit, something had changed. He still wanted Erin, that was for sure, but that alone was no longer enough. His feelings for her had blossomed into something far more than just the physical. Now his desire was for an emotional connection.

That evening Dare made his specialty, stir-fried chicken with white rice, and he and Erin sat down to a quiet meal alone. They finished off with a cup of herbal tea for Erin and black coffee for Dare. Then, for the first time since they’d met, he told her about his musical family. He talked about his dad, a country and western singer who had moved to Michigan with his young wife, where they’d performed in nightclubs across the city.

As teenagers Dare and his two brothers often joined their parents on stage. Later, one of his brothers went on to a musical career while the other became a psychiatrist. Dare chose the field of engineering.

“But the entrepreneurial spirit won out, I see.” Erin lifted her teacup to him.

Dare nodded. “Never even got the chance to use my engineering degree, but who’s complaining?”

They were both having a laugh at that when Dare’s cell phone began to buzz. He peered at the screen. “My broker. Calling me now? Weird.” He took the call and was on the phone less than two minutes when he hung up. He was all smiles.

“Did you just win the lottery?” Erin asked cheekily. A man like Dare probably never wasted his time or his money on such slim odds.

“Better. That was my insurance broker. He said they’ll be going out tomorrow to assess the property damage at that new resort I bought. It’s likely they’ll cover up to eighty percent of the damage.”

“But why not one hundred percent?”

“That would be the ideal but there’s that pesky little thing called the deductible they have to take out first.” He shrugged. “But the good thing is, Dennis went to look at the place and the bulk of the wind damage was to those villas I was planning to bulldoze anyway. They were too hollow to stand up to the hurricane.”

“A blessing in disguise,” she murmured.

“You got that right.” Then he gave her a naughty look. “To celebrate I’ll grant you one wish, anything you want.”

“A massage,” she said with delight. “I want you to massage me from head to toe. Carrying this weight around is hard on the back and the legs.”

He put on a disappointed look. “Nothing else? Just a massage?”

“Yes, Dare,” she said, rolling her eyes, “just a massage. We’ve had enough fun for a while, don’t you think?”

He didn’t press after that. Erin had been more than generous in that department, considering her condition. He would give her a well-deserved break. He gathered the cups and teapot onto the tray. “Be right back,” he said and headed for the kitchen.

Dare had just deposited the tray onto the marble countertop when he heard a yell. It was Erin and she was shouting his name. He jogged back to the sitting room to see what the fuss was about.

What Dare saw made his blood run cold. Erin had collapsed onto the floor. She was clutching her stomach and moaning.

He rushed over to kneel by her side. “What’s wrong?’

“Cramps,” she gasped, her brow beaded with perspiration. She gritted her teeth and clutched his hand with a strength that rivaled a weight lifter. “I think…I’m going into labor.”

“Labor?” he all but shouted. “You’re nowhere near due yet.”

“Tell that to the baby,” she half-laughed half-groaned, then she was clutching his shoulders with both hands, shivering with the pain that shot through her body.

“We’re going to the hospital,” he said and lifted her into his arms.