Page 24 of The Redemption of Remy St. Claire

Instead of resisting, she let him resettle her.

He sat on the side of the bed and handed her the glass of ginger ale.

She saw the straw in it, and her throat clenched. Her mother always gave her a straw when she’d allowed the rare treat of soda.

She took a sip. And then another. When she held up her hand to indicate she’d had enough, he scowled.

“You’re dehydrated.”

“I probably am.” She managed another couple of sips, but her throat was still raw from having vomited so violently.

He snagged the bottle of ibuprofen from the nightstand. Taking her hand, he shook out two pills. “This should take the edge off the pain.”

She swallowed the pills and grimaced. When she glanced at him, the worried expression still darkened his face. “I’m sorry.”

“I know you are.” He ran his hand through his hair.

In exasperation—if she had to guess.

“Why’d you do it?”

The question she dreaded. Because she didn’t have a good answer. Or any answer. “I’m not a drinker. I haven’t been drunk since…well, university. In fact, until two weeks ago, I wasn’t drinking at all. Since Mom and Dad died, I’ve been having one glass of wine a night to relax me. I think everything caught up with me yesterday. When I realized Calleigh was a lifelong commitment, I guess I panicked.”

“You drank more than a bottle of wine.” He handed her the glass again, prodding her to drink more.

She closed her eyes to break the contact. It all was way too intimate. “Irresponsible of me, I know.”

“Calleigh might’ve needed you.”

What little ginger ale she’d managed to consume threatened to reappear. “Did she have a nightmare?”

“She did, but she didn’t wake up. I comforted her until she resettled.” He offered a slight smile. “I’m glad she didn’t wake, as I might’ve frightened her.”

“Somehow I think she’d have been more frightened if I hadn’t come.” She hesitated, searching for the right words. “I would never knowingly put Calleigh in danger. In the back of my mind, I knew she was safe with you.”

“And she was. I guess I need assurances…that this is a onetime thing.”

“I’m not an alcoholic—if that’s what you’re asking. Like I said, I never drink. After an incident in university, I’ve hardly touched the stuff since. I don’t know what I was thinking last night. I can promise you, however, it’ll never happen again.”

“Normally I wouldn’t ask for something so definitive, but I’m protective of my daughter. If you plan to do this regularly, Mira and I will leave today.” His expression was dark and somber.

Her heart shot up her throat. In all this mess, it’d never occurred to her she might lose her nanny. Only four days had passed, but she was already relying on him. How could she go back to work tomorrow without him here? In truth, how could she cope on her own? Suddenly, nine years didn’t sound like nearly enough time. When they were handing out genes, they hadn’t blessed her with the maternal one. Other girls had grown up knowing they wanted to be mothers. She’d always known she wanted to work. No amount of playing dolls could dissuade her.

“I need you, Rusty.” She let her desperation seep into her voice. “I didn’t realize it, but it’s clear to me now. I’ll pour out the wine and never take another drop.”

“Hey now. I’m not suggesting you need to get on the wagon. I’m just asking you not to drink to the point of passing out again. I thought…well, it doesn’t matter now.”

Except it does.She wanted to ask if there was more, but this wasn’t the time or place. He handed her the glass and she took another sip. Huh, the glass was almost empty. Persuasive without being pushy—that made him a good dad.

“Could you manage some saltine crackers?”

“You’re competent at this.”

A shadow crossed his face. “Sissy had the worst morning sickness. Sometimes she was so dehydrated I worried she’d wind up in the hospital. We managed on our own, but we also struggled. Eventually, we had a routine. The nausea never fully abated during the pregnancy, so we looked forward to the birth of the baby.”

“Everyone looks forward to the birth of a baby.”

“True, but you never answered my question.”

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